Mistakes
by sheeplady46
Summary: Paul and Scott are captured in Hawaii. Fox and Wylie fly to retrieve the fugitive pair, but fate is not in Fox's favor when a storm causes them to crash on an uninhabited island. As hope of rescue seems to fade, Fox finds survival becoming a matter of cooperation...even with thine enemy.


Author's Notes

What follows is a work of fiction. Names, characters, or incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or to persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

Copyright 1989 by Zena and Sheeplady46. This is a non-profit amateur publication written for the enjoyment of STARMAN fans and is not meant to infringe upon copyrights, or otherwise, held by Bruce A Evans and Raynold Gideon, Henerson-Hirsch, Productions, Michael Douglas Productions, Columbia Pictures Television, ABC-TV or anybody else who might claim such a right.

* * *

Mistakes  
Zena and Sheeplady46  
1989

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Paul and Scott were sitting in a tiny jail cell, the building's only occupants other than the Sheriff. Paul had felt his heart pounding as he and Scott had been ushered into the jail. That fear continued to grow as they remained there, knowing that a computer check was probably being made. Paul thought back on how they had landed in this situation.

They had been in San Francisco waiting for a check from Liz Baines. They had been on the road for almost two years and Liz had been a friend, tried and true. When they really needed funds she never questioned them but simply made arrangements for a pickup place, continuing as she had said, to "put it on their tab". They had not seen each other since they had left her at the Monorail terminal in Seattle.

They had run out of funds once again and the immediate prospects of any kind of job seemed few and Paul had to call on Liz once again. Paul told her that they were just south of San Francisco. She informed them that in two weeks she would be going to Hawaii and she would really like to see them again. She told Paul that she would send extra money for their tickets if they would meet her there.

Scott urged his Dad to take her up on it and Paul agreed. It was arranged that Liz would wire the money they needed to the Western Union office in downtown San Francisco and they would all meet on the big island. She would check into her reserved room at the Honolulu Hilton two weeks from Saturday and Paul would call her there, person to person, to advise her of their location. She would then fly over to Hawaii to meet them.

After Liz hung up, Paul had second thoughts about going to an island where there would be no way of escape if they were caught. Scott assured his father that an island would probably be the last place Fox would look for them, realizing the same thing, and that Hawaii was a 'big island'. Paul had to laugh at Scott's reasoning, but finally had to agree, Scott was probably right.

They had purchased their tickets under the names of Paul and Scott Baines and departed San Francisco the following Monday afternoon, taking advantage of the reduced midweek prices, and had arrived on the big island of Hawaii. They had hitchhiked south from Hilo and were camping near a secluded beach not too far from a small town near the southern end of the island and during the day were knocking about exploring the area waiting for Saturday.

They frequented the small town for groceries and occasionally dined out in the town's only cafe while talking to the local people. Evenings were usually spent in their camp talking and watching the stars before retiring. In the morning they would pack up their camping goods in the duffle bag and knapsack and stash them carefully out of sight among the bushy trees that grew in profusion along the shoreline. They felt safe in leaving their things as they very rarely saw any signs of footprints as evidence that anyone had visited this particular piece of beach.

The local Deputy Sheriff had been eying Paul suspiciously. He didn't like Paul's mannerisms and the fact that the pair didn't act like the normal tourists he was used to. The man and boy seemed to fit in too easily with the local native and old timer population and had actually been invited by some of the younger set to join them on their surf boards. They _were_ haoles though, the Hawaiian peoples name for outsider or foreigner, and the Sheriff being Hawaiian, didn't like haoles.

In his opinion, the town was beginning to attract too many outsiders now since the tourists were beginning to try to escape from what they considered the biggest rip-off tourist traps. The local business community however, appreciated the tourist dollars and he knew he had to tolerate the intrusion, but he didn't like it when it looked like the tourists were going to stay, permanently. He had noticed this stranger and a boy, which he assumed was his son, just hanging around town the past couple of days, mixing easily with the locals and had dubbed them as 'settlers'.

This morning, the Sheriff saw them once again down on the beach mingling with the local young people and looking at the outriggers which were being readied for a race.

Being in a bad mood, the Sheriff confronted the strangers, asking questions that would have put any other citizen on the defensive, but Paul had answered the questions truthfully, though not in the usual fashion, and this irritated the Sheriff even more. He contacted one of his business friends and asked him to file a loitering complaint and had proceeded to arrest Paul. When Scott tried to help his father, he arrested Scott for assaulting an officer. The Sheriff would have been satisfied with Forrester and his son's confinement for a few hours and was ready to release them when he got the call from Washington.

What would have been a routine computer check on the pair raised George Fox's red flag and started a whirlwind of excitement. When George Fox had called, the sheriff confirmed that he had "properly booked them" by taking from them _all_ their personal possessions, and that he was holding both Paul Forrester and Scott Hayden in custody. The Fed had then advised him that he had a pair of highly sought after Federal fugitives and told him he wanted Forrester and the boy personally secured no matter how docile they appeared.

The Sheriff smiled as he hung up the phone and called in his backup deputy. _At least these two aren't staying_, he thought. When his backup arrived the Sheriff opened his desk drawer, dropped his sidearm in and reached for the hardware he always kept there. The Fed told him he wanted them secured and that he was ready to do.

Having the items he wanted, The Deputy opened the door to the cell block and the two officers entered. When they reached the cell in which Forrester and the boy were being detained his smile of self satisfaction caused Paul to retreat to the rear of the cell, thinking to himself, "Uh oh, ... Fox knows." His fears were quickly confirmed.

Sheriff: So you're Paul Forrester, wanted by the FSA. I knew there was something odd about you. And Scott Hayden, also wanted by the FSA. You'll be pleased to know we'll be sending you two out of paradise soon. A Mr. George Fox is on his way from Washington, D.C.

The Sheriff noticed _that_ seemed to have struck a nerve with Forrester. He positioned the armed deputy outside the cell.

Sheriff: (opening the cell door) Stand up mister. Hold out your hands.

Paul did as he was told and watched as handcuffs were placed on his wrists and then a chain was run through the handcuffs, around his waist and locked.

Sheriff: Okay, now sit down on the bottom bunk.

Paul just stood there.

Sheriff: I said sit down, NOW!

Seeing the deputy moving toward him, Paul broke out of his shock of being secured like a dangerous criminal, and sat down on the bunk. As he sat on the edge with his feet on the floor, Paul looked down as the man secured manacles around his ankles as well.

Sheriff: Good, now lie down. (then turns to Scott) Okay, now you, up.

Scott slowly did as he was told, eying the armed deputy, and watched in despair as the Sheriff clamped handcuffs on his wrists too.

Sheriff: Okay you two, you can resume whatever you were doing if you want.

Paul just continued to lie on the bunk. The Sheriff was smiling as he walked out of the cell, then locked it and went out of the cell block with the deputy. As soon as the Deputy had shut the outside door, Scott looked at his father.

Scott: Dad, what are we gonna do?

Paul: I don't know.

Scott: Did you hear him? Fox is coming. We have to get out of here before he gets here.

Paul: I agree with you, but how? The police officer has our spheres. And look at me. There's nothing we can do Scott.

Scott lay back down on his back, looking at the ceiling, his fear very evident. Below, Paul could hear his son's rapid breathing and muffled sobs. He felt for his son, but he was helpless. They both laid there quietly awaiting their fate.

It was very early the next morning when Fox and agent Wylie arrived in Hawaii. Fox was almost unable to believe that the alien had gone to the Islands where there was no easy ways of escaping if Its presence were detected. It usually didn't make such mistakes. This time Its presence was not only detected, but It and Its son were incarcerated. With the instructions he had given to the local 'yokel' Sheriff, this time It wouldn't escape. Fox had made sure of that.

########################################

Paul had awakened early this morning and the night's rest had been anything but restful. He quickly noticed the surroundings and felt the restraints and then felt Scott's movements in the bunk above him. They were still in jail and awaiting the arrival of George Fox.

While still en-route out of San Francisco, Fox had called Hickam Air Force Base and had made arrangements for a helicopter and crew to meet them at the airport and fly them to the big island. They would pick up their prisoners and be returned to the base at Hickam to await the next military flight back to Washington. A further call to the Sheriff's office had provided them with directions to a landing area adjacent to the small outlying office.

Fox and Wylie walked into the Sheriff's office and flashed their ID's. The Sheriff seemed almost reluctant to give up his prisoners. When the word had gotten out that he had collared two Federal fugitives, he had become quite a celebrity; and as the helicopter landed a crowd of curious townspeople began to collect. Fox just wanted to get his prisoners and return to Hickam as soon as possible. He was in no mood to deal with the locals.

Fox: May I see their personal effects?

Sheriff: Yeah. Sure.

The Sheriff indicated the camera bag lying on the floor, which Paul was carrying with him when they were arrested, and then handed Fox two small manila envelopes. Fox grabbed and opened each one. His eyes lit up when he saw the first shiny marble and again when he picked up the second one. He finally had in his possession the most important things in the alien's life. It's source of power. He would be taking no chances this time of the alien getting Its hands on them. The alien had managed to outwit him and escape before, but not this time. And if It _did_ manage to escape, It would have to come to him to get them back.

The Sheriff thought, _Now what the hell does he want with __**those**__?_

Fox: Sheriff, do have any mailing bags handy?

Sheriff: Yeah, I think so. There should be some in my desk. (searches) Here.

Fox put the two objects in the mailing bag and addressed it to his secretary, Edna, at FSA headquarters, with a short note telling her to lock them in his desk drawer. He turned to Wylie.

Fox: Wylie, go to the post office and mail this right away.

Wylie: You're gonna _mail_ 'em sir?

Fox: Yes, I'm gonna _mail_ 'em! I'm tired of chasing Forrester and his kid. Forrester's always managed to escape with these. No more! This time I'm not taking any chances. Now go! (turning to the Sheriff) Where's the Post Office?

Deputy: I'll see to mailing 'em for you.

Fox: No, I want these in the custody of the U.S. Postal Service now, before we leave.

The Deputy gave Wylie directions and Wylie started toward the door.

Fox: (to Wylie) And make that registered Wylie, ...and restricted delivery. Now Sheriff, let me see your prisoners.

Paul and Scott had heard the arrival of the helicopter and were naturally on edge. The countdown was almost counted down now and soon they would be looking Fox in the eye once again. They had tried to listen to any conversation in the Sheriff's office, but the noise of the helicopter made that impossible. One thing they were sure of, the helicopter was not here on a social call. Fox was here. Suddenly Fox walked in, smiling and talking with the Sheriff.

Sheriff: Well, here they are. I secured them just like you said.

Fox was surprised to see that Forrester and his son were actually in the jail cell. On so many other occasions some inept police officer or Sheriff's deputy had indicated that they had them waiting for him, only to find that by the time he got there they were gone. When Fox actually saw them there, Forrester lying on the lower bunk and Scott sitting on the upper his face reflected his feeling of delight. He stood there for a long moment savoring the pleasure.

Fox: Well Forrester, Scott, time to take a little trip. I've got a nice little room waiting for each of you. There are a lot of things we've got to talk about. Sheriff, if you please - the door.

Fox ordered them into the main office.

Wylie had returned from the Post Office and Fox ordered Wylie to pick up the camera bag and to take it with him to the waiting helicopter. The Sheriff handed Fox the necessary keys and then Fox quickly signed the official release papers, stuffing one copy in his coat pocket along with the keys and then took the two manila envelopes and slipped them both under one arm. He then took out his automatic weapon and covered both of the prisoners while the Sheriff looked on in total bewilderment at the unusual amount of force needed to handle these two prisoners. The Sheriff thought to himself, _A weapon yet when there's four of us and only two of them, one of 'em a kid, and both in restraints. Good heavens, they must really be dangerous._

Fox saw the crowd of curious onlookers that had gathered around a short distance from the slowly revolving helicopter blades and ordered the Deputy to go out and move them back. He then leveled his gun at Paul and Scott.

Fox: Now move. Straight line to the helicopter. No funny business either of you. Make a wrong move to break for it and you'll wind up with a bullet. Understand?

Scott: (mumbling) Yes.

Paul nodded his response and they all proceeded out the door.

In the distance, dark storm clouds hung over the windward side of the mountains, moving rapidly their way. The Deputy noticed the gathering storm.

Deputy: (to the pilot) Morning thunderstorm. Looks like a beaut'. (indicating to the East) Better take the long way home Major.

They walked to the waiting chopper, ducking cautiously under the slowly revolving rotors. Wylie was standing beside it and helped Paul and Scott on board. He fastened them into the lap belts, placing Scott's belt across the handcuffs and under his left arm, thereby securing him from moving his arms.

Fox thanked the Sheriff and Deputy, then climbed aboard and signaled they were ready for Oahu. The helicopter blades rotated to speed and they lifted off.

The pilot radioed the base that they were on their way home and indicated that he was going to circle around an incoming storm front and that they should arrive in approximately an hour or so. They were flying low at about 1,000 feet, passing over many of the uninhabited islands just off shore of the 'Big Island' in an effort to avoid the building storm clouds which by now appeared to be covering the entire island.

Many of the islands visible below were so small and devoid of vegetation that it was obvious they were completely submerged at high tide.

They had now been up for more than twenty minutes when the helicopter was being buffeted by high frontal winds of the rapidly building and approaching storm front. As the turbulent clouds began to engulf them, Paul could smell the strong odor of ozone in the air. He remembered reading about this and knew what was about to happen. Within the next few seconds the lightning bolt struck the helicopter with a deafening report. The machine shook violently from side to side, front to back and up and down, and to those inside, seemingly all at once.

Fox: (to pilot) What happened?

Pilot: Lightning strike! Instruments are out! Radio, compass, altimeter!

Fox: (through headphones) Can we make it to Oahu?

Pilot: Maybe. But that's just it. Where is it? We've got no compass and I can't see a thing with these clouds. Hell, I don't even know how high we are!

Fox: Well, can you make it back to Hawaii?

Pilot: Same problem. You tell me where it is and we'll go.

Fox: Well take your best shot for Oahu. I _must_ get these prisoners there!

Pilot: I'll try Mr. Fox, but you'll be lucky if we get them anywhere! I think you'd better make sure your seatbelts are tightly fastened. It's gonna get rough.

Fox: You'd better radio our position.

Pilot: Radio's out. And with this electrical activity, I don't think they'll be able to locate us on radar. I've flown these islands for two years and this is the worst storm I've seen yet.

With the buffeting the winds were giving them, the pilot was unable to make any accurate guess about direction, having enough to do in merely trying to keep the machine steady amid the fury of the storm. They continued flying aimlessly for another half hour.

Co-pilot: ...we're losing oil pressure!

Pilot: How bad?

Co-pilot: Not too bad yet, sir, just slowly.

Pilot: Keep me informed.

Their direction was leading them not toward Oahu or back to Hawaii, but out toward the southern edge of the outlying Leeward Islands, and every minute of flying time geometrically multiplied the error from their filed flight plan. Another twenty five minutes passed.

Co-pilot: (to pilot) Oil pressure's going fast now sir! Engine temperature is reaching critical.

Pilot: She's going to seize up when the oil pressure goes.

Co-pilot: (to Fox) We're going down! Tighten those seat belts and hang on.

Fox quickly told Wylie to make sure Paul and Scott, who were sitting on either side of him, were secured in their seats. Wylie tightened their belts and then his own. Everyone knew they were going to crash and waited for the inevitable.

The pilot had been doing a marvelous job and had somewhat outrun the major violence of the storm front. He had dropped out of the clouds and turbulence and was flying as low as he possibly could after it had become obvious that they were going to go down. He had spotted a small island off in the distance and was heading for it. Another five minutes passed.

Co-pilot: There she goes! Pressure's gone!

Pilot: Rotor's are seizing up! We're going down! I'm going to try to manage a controlled crash!

As he approached the island the pilot had started dumping the excess fuel still in the tanks for the original flight back to Oahu. He was still a ways above the island and on a landing approach when the engine quit. The helicopter suddenly dropped down, out of control.

They crashed through some trees, finally coming to rest with the chopper on its side under some undergrowth at the base of a volcanic outcropping. The dumping of the excess fuel had prevented an explosive fireball from erupting upon impact. Everyone was unconscious.

########################################

George Fox was the first to stir. He discovered that he had a splitting headache, put his hand to his head and when he removed it, found his hand covered with fresh blood. Fox experimentally tried to move around and, much to his relief, found that apparently he had no broken bones.

He heard moaning coming from the pilot's section. He unfastened his seatbelt and crawled into the cockpit. A large tree had hit the front of the helicopter and come through the window striking the pilot and was resting against the co-pilot. The pilot was hanging from his seat and Fox knew almost before making a quick check of his pulse, that he could not be alive.

The co-pilot was conscious and moaning in pain. He mumbled something to Fox and then passed out. Fox checked him as best as he could and found what obviously was a broken arm, and from the position of the tree against his body, guessed at possible internal injuries as well. He knew he would need help to get the co-pilot out of his seat belt and down on the level. Fox now heard sounds of stirring from the passenger compartment and moved back in that direction. He wanted to first assess all the injuries to ascertain which would need tending to first.

Wylie and Scott were both coming around. The three were hanging from their seat belts, almost upside down. Wylie pushed the release button on his belt and it let him fall, landing almost squarely on top of Scott. Fox helped Wylie off of Scott and he helped Wylie to sit up.

Fox: You okay?

Wylie: (squeaking out his reply) Yes sir.

Fox: Scott, you alright?

Scott didn't answer; he just nodded his head and gave Wylie a dirty look. Wylie released Scott's seatbelt and Scott slid the rest of the way down to what was now the floor. Scott sat up carefully, and Wylie checked him for any wounds or broken bones. Finding none, Scott proceeded to stand up. Meanwhile Fox turned his attention to Paul.

Fox: Forrester? Forrester, can you hear me?

Paul was beginning to come to. Paul's seat was the furthest from what now was the floor of the helicopter and Wylie positioned himself underneath Paul to break his fall before Fox reached up to release his seatbelt. Shackled as he was, Paul was unable to stand up easily and Wylie sat him down on the floor of the craft.

Fox: Forrester, can you hear me? You alright?

Scott: Dad?

Paul: (slowly) I hear you. I'm alright, I think.

Fox: Wylie, leave them there. I need your help getting the co-pilot out. He's hurt. He's got some broken bones and I'm also afraid some internal injuries are possible, so we have to be real careful. Pilot's gone. C'mon. (then to Paul and Scott) You sit right where you are Forrester. Scott, you join him and stay put.

Fox and Wylie managed to get the co-pilot down on the floor and

Wylie searched the helicopter for the medical kit and some splinting material. They then proceeded to splint the broken arm as best they could. They managed to get the co-pilot out of the helicopter and laid him down outside on the ground. Fox stayed out and told Wylie to help get Paul and Scott out.

Wylie gave Scott a boost up through the doorway on top of the helicopter and told him to wait on the edge while he helped lift Paul up to him. Scott took his handcuffed hands, caught his Dad under the arms and pulled up hard. Paul was heavy and hanging half in and half out of the door entrance from Scott's first effort. Another pull and he was sitting on top, almost in Scott's lap. Fox told Scott to jump down to the ground. Wylie then climbed out of the open door and sat on top with Paul. He then stood up and helped slide Paul down into Fox's and Scott's waiting arms. Fox then ordered the fugitive pair to sit down beside the helicopter.

Wylie: What now Mr. Fox?

Fox: We have to get to open ground so the rescue team can spot us.

Wylie: (pointing to the co-pilot) What about him?

Fox: We'll have to carry him. See what you can find for a litter, and anything else we can use.

Wylie: Right.

Wylie disappeared back inside and came out shortly with a nylon web cargo net, the medical kit and two space tech blankets which he tossed to Fox.

Wylie: There's a flashlight, flare gun, an ax, survival knife and a five gallon water can, a cup and Forrester's and our bags still inside Mr. Fox.

Fox: We can get that stuff later. Just get the med kit for now.

Wylie brought out the emergency first aid kit, handed it to Fox and jumped down. Fox laid the kit on the ground and Fox and Wylie proceeded to bandage a large cut on the co-pilot's forehead. Paul and Scott watched in silence, unable to assist. Fox and Wylie then spread the net on the ground, laid one of the blankets on top of it, and carefully lifted and laid the injured co-pilot on top of the blanket, wrapping the remainder of the blanket around him.

Fox: (to Paul and Scott) Now, you two, get up. Scott, help your father. Okay, I think the beach is that way. Scott, you and Wylie will take the lead. Forrester, you and I will follow. Everyone pick up your corner of the net on the count of three.

Paul: I can't, not with my hands chained to my waist.

Fox: (with a slight hint of irritation) Okay, okay.

Fox reached for his keys and removed the waist chain putting it, the lock and the keys in his pocket once again.

Fox: Now you can do it. ... one, two, three. Let's go.

They all picked up their corner of the net and began carrying the co- pilot. They had taken only a few steps when Fox noticed that Paul was limping.

Fox: Hold it. Put him down!

They carefully laid the net back down.

Fox: Okay Forrester, sit down. What's the matter with your leg?

Paul: I don't know. My knee hurts.

Fox: Wylie, check his knee. Scott, you sit down too.

As Paul and Scott sat down, Fox pulled out his gun and covered both of them as Wylie checked Paul's knee. Wylie saw a tear in Paul's Levi's and blood.

Fox: (to Wylie) Well?

Wylie: Sir, he's got a bad gash in his knee. It's bleeding pretty good.

Fox: Okay, see what you can do.

Paul watched with interest as Wylie cleaned the wound with some hydrogen peroxide, then applied a dark solution to the gauze pad. Another cleaning and he quickly applied the gauze to the wound. It stung like crazy and Paul winced.

Wylie: Sorry. It's the antiseptic.

Paul: Oh, it's alright now, but it sure hurt.

Wylie took some rolled bandage and wrapped it around Paul's leg to secure the gauze and they were ready to get underway again.

Paul: Thank you.

Wylie smiled and helped Paul to his feet once again. Another thought came to mind.

Wylie: (to Fox) Sir, may I suggest we remove the leg chains until we get the co-pilot to the beach? If Forrester trips while we're carrying him ...

Fox: Alright, but only until we get to the beach.

Fox handed Wylie the keys again while he continued to keep Paul and Scott covered. Wylie removed the leg chains and gave them and the keys back to Mr. Fox. Wylie then noticed Fox's head wound.

Wylie: Sir, what about you? There's blood all over your face.

Fox: It'll wait 'til we make camp. C'mon, let's go.

In a short while they reached the beach and gently laid the co-pilot down on the sand above the tide line. Fox then gave the chains and lock he'd taken from Paul's waist and legs to Wylie. He told Wylie to wrap the chain around a nearby tree and then to run the chain through Paul's and Scott's handcuffs and lock it, then secure Paul's legs. Wylie did as Fox told him and then Fox put away his weapon. His prisoners could not escape now.

There was another flash of lightning and the ominous roll of thunder. Fox stayed with the co-pilot and sent Wylie back to the helicopter to retrieve the items they could use. Fox had managed to find some firewood and some dry kindling and had built a small fire on the sand next to where they had laid the co-pilot. It was almost half an hour before Wylie returned. He laid everything he had carried down where Fox told him, away from Paul and Scott. Fox was taking no chances that either of the two could lay their hands on something to help them get control and escape. Wylie looked down at the co-pilot.

Wylie: How is he?

Fox: It doesn't look good. I think he has extensive internal injuries. There's a massive bruise on his stomach area. I've made him comfortable, but that's all I can do.

The storm they had been trying to skirt around had now arrived with thunder and lightning followed immediately by a torrential downpour. Fox and Wylie quickly ducked under the one remaining blanket and pulled the other one up over the co-pilot's face to keep the rain off of him. Wylie looked out from their shelter at Paul and Scott who were getting drenched.

Wylie: What about them? They're getting soaked sir.

Fox: So what about 'em? A little water won't hurt 'em. We don't have room for four under here. If you wanna get wet, be my guest.

Wylie was both a little surprised and shocked by Fox's remark, but he was also reluctant to give up his one dry spot on the sand. He watched as Paul and Scott lay down. Paul turned his head sideways and Scott followed his lead, facing the ocean and just let the rain pour down on them. There was nothing they could do about it anyway. Paul was just thankful that the rain wasn't cold like in some other parts of the country they had traveled in. The lightning continued to dance around them and as the storm intensified, the wind began to blow. Wylie just stared at them. In his heart he felt sorry.

The rain poured down through the rest of the day. Night was approaching fast and yet no rescue craft had appeared in the sky. Fox knew they would have been declared missing by now and search and rescue efforts must be underway. The helicopter's standard distress beacon should bring them right in to them. _Perhaps the storm made them suspend their efforts,_ thought Fox. _In that case, they'll resume again in the morning, but it's going to be a long night._ Fox gave Wylie the first watch and told him in no light words or manner, "don't take your eyes off Forrester or the kid, and _don't_ fall asleep. I'll take over at midnight. Wake me up if there's an emergency with the co-pilot."

The rain stopped sometime during the night and as the morning light came, so did the warming sun. Paul awakened and opened his eyes, looking almost directly into Fox's cold stare. Paul and Scott looked like they had gone through the wash cycle at a Laundromat. They were both still soaking wet and somewhat chilled, but the upcoming sun made their future seem a little brighter. The morning also brought with it the prospect of nothing to eat and they were all feeling somewhat hungry.

Fox still had a headache. He blamed it on the head injury he had received in the crash and felt it would soon go away. _Something to eat might also help_, he thought. Paul noticed him holding his head with his hands. But first in Fox's mind right now was to make sure his prisoners were secure and ready to deliver when the rescue helicopter came.

Fox: (to Wylie) Man, I wish we had something to eat. I'm starving.

Wylie: (fishing in his pockets, remembers some peanut M & M's) I've got a bag of these sir.

Fox: Great! Give 'em to me and we'll split.

Wylie handed the bag to Fox who tore it open, poured about half of the candies into his hand and gave the rest of the bag back to Wylie.

Wylie: Sir! That's not fair! What about them?

At that question, Fox popped some into his mouth.

Fox: So split what's left. I'm going to check on the co-pilot.

Wylie got up and poured the remaining candies into Paul's hand. He told Paul to divide it with his son.

Paul: But what about you? Don't you want any?

Wylie: (softly so Fox couldn't hear) It's all I've got left. I can do without. I need to lose some weight anyway. Go on and share with your son.

Paul: (smiling) Thanks.

Wylie smiled back and went over to his boss.

Wylie: Well sir? How is he?

Fox: He's dead.

The two men stood in silence for a moment.

Wylie: I guess we should bury both of them.

Fox: Not yet. When the rescue chopper comes, they'll want to take the bodies back to the base with them. For now let's just cover them up with some of those big leaves.

Wylie: Okay. What's next?

Fox: Well now you have your own blanket.

Wylie: Aren't we going to give them one sir? We can share the one you're using.

Fox: If you want to give them yours, be my guest, but leave your gun here with me. Otherwise, shut up and just count your blessing.

Wylie: Yes sir.

Fox: ...now we gotta make a shelter that'll serve until we're rescued ...and we gotta find some food too.

Wylie: Yes sir.

Fox : Do you know anything about what's edible around here?

Wylie: No.

Fox: Okay then, let's start building a shelter. We can worry about food after that's finished. (Fox handed the keys to Wylie and pointed towards his prisoners) Here, unlock the chain.

As Wylie moved over to where Paul and Scott were chained to the tree, Fox pulled out his pistol and pointed it in Paul's direction.

Fox: Okay you two, stand up. You're gonna build us a lean-to. Do you know how?

Paul: Yes.

Fox: Good. Wylie, take Scott and go find some materials. I'll take Forrester and get some of that bamboo we passed on the way from the helicopter, for a frame. (Fox motioned the direction to Paul with the barrel of the pistol) Let's go Forrester.

Fox picked up the ax from the things that Wylie had brought from the crash site and he and Paul started walking back through the undergrowth to the helicopter. Shortly they reached a substantial patch of bamboo and Fox threw the ax at Paul's feet and ordered him to start cutting the canes. Fox kept Paul covered with his pistol and when he figured they had enough pieces, Fox ordered Paul to lay the ax on the ground and back away from it. Fox then picked up the ax and told Paul to pick up the bamboo and start for the beach. Scott and Wylie were waiting for Paul and Fox to return. They had a whole supply of pandanus fronds that grew in abundance along the shore and some vines that Scott had told Wylie would do for tying the mess together.

Fox kept Paul and Scott covered while they tied the framework together with the vines. Inwardly, Fox was impressed at how good they were at building the thing, but his continuing headache did not give him any desire to express it. While Paul and Scott were building the lean-to, Fox took out a bottle of prescription medicine a doctor had given him for his occasional migraines. He swallowed one of the pills dry. It tasted horribly bitter, but brought relief within the hour.

In the meantime, Wylie had been fabricating a passable spear out of one of the pieces of bamboo, and Fox told him to try fishing while Paul and Scott built the lean-to. Wylie was coming back now with three good sized fish which he proceeded to clean. He then built up the campfire and started cooking the catch. It was afternoon now. Fox had one of the fish, Wylie the second and Paul and Scott were given the third to split. Wylie had planned to go out and get another fish, but Fox had been impatient as well as hungry, and told Wylie that the three would be enough. Wylie had started to protest, but decided to drop it. He also decided to share his fish with Paul and Scott. They appreciated his kind offer and gladly took the extra serving. Fox didn't like Wylie fraternizing with the prisoners and let him know it.

After the meal, Fox told Wylie to take Scott and collect some more firewood for the upcoming night. As Wylie and Scott left, Fox chained Paul securely to the tree again. Paul watched him as he went into the lean-to and picked up his travel bag and after rummaging through it, came out holding his shaving kit. Only then did Paul really realize that Fox was sporting quite a growth of facial hair. He put his hand up to his own face and felt the extent of its growth. Fox was talking to himself.

Fox: Only two extra blades. Better make a note George, pick some up when we get back.

Paul watched as Fox, using cold water, proceeded to try to shave. The clumsy manner in which he used his razor made it obvious that he had always done his shaving with a mirror.

Fox: (mumbling to himself) I wonder if this is worth it. Need a mirror... bad... ow!

By the time Fox was completing his attempts at shaving without the mirror, he had several more small nicks on his face to go along with the large cut on his forehead from the crash and the job would certainly not have passed a close inspection. Paul wanted to laugh, but thought the better of it, feeling that Fox might not consider the matter humorous.

As Mr. Fox completed his shaving, Wylie returned with Scott. Fox ordered Scott chained again and gave Wylie the keys. When Wylie returned to the lean-to he noticed that Fox had shaved and put his fingers up to his own face.

Wylie: Good idea Mr. Fox.

Wylie grabbed his travel bag and pulled out his shaver, then realizing that it was electric, he took on an embarrassed look.

Wylie: May I borrow yours sir?

Fox: (handing him the gear) Good luck! You'll need it.

Wylie's shave was even more of a disaster than Fox's. He was quite obviously used to shaving without a mirror while using an electric, but he was not used to the safety razor. Paul and Scott both watched and Paul noticed the grin on Scott's face and knew what Scott was thinking. He nudged him gently and with a subtle negative movement of his head told Scott to say nothing, but at the same time grinned. Knowing that his own efforts would be no more successful than theirs, Paul didn't ask for the use of the razor, preferring to pass up the painful experience. Besides, he doubted Fox would even let him handle a razor.

All day long they had listened for any sign of a rescue helicopter or boat, but nothing came. Fox was getting irritated at the thought of spending another night in this primitive jungle as it became more obvious that for this day, at least, no rescue was forthcoming. He settled down for the night in the lean-to.

Wylie again suggested that he and his boss share a blanket and give the other one to Paul and Scott, but Fox showed no signs of wanting to share, so Wylie took the other one. He felt guilty about Paul and Scott not having anything for another night, but at least it wasn't raining. Scott was getting very angry.

Scott: (whispering to his father) Gee Dad! All that work and we don't even get to use it! We built it for nothing!

Paul: No, not for nothing, Scott. We built it for them, but I know how you feel. You think it's not fair that they get to use it and we don't.

Scott: Yeah. I'd like to give 'em a piece of my mind.

Paul: Piece of your mind?

Scott: Tell 'em just what I think, Dad.

Paul: No. Don't. Don't you do anything except what they tell you to do.

Scott: Okay, but it's going to be tough. Goodnight Dad.

Paul: Goodnight Scott.

Wylie got up again that night and brought some large leaves over to where Paul and Scott lay, and covered them. Paul thanked him and they all slept.

The next morning brought hunger and again no rescue. Fox took Paul into the jungle to look for some nuts, berries, coconuts, or whatever they could find that was edible. He gave instructions to Wylie to keep Scott chained to the tree and told Wylie to try to catch some more fish.

Paul and Fox returned in a couple hours with a small pittance of berries and nuts. They determined that the berries and nuts were safe for consumption by watching to see if the birds and animals ate them. Wylie returned with a sizable catch of fish, this time enough for all of them. Wylie's fishing was proving to be their main food resource, for until they learned what was and wasn't edible, they had to rely on the sea. Fox looked once again skyward, thinking, _Hopefully, we won't be here too much longer._

By evening Fox was beginning to suspect that something was wrong with the helicopter's emergency beacon. _What else could be the reason there's no rescue?_ ,he thought. _Surely they must have planes and boats out searching for us by now._

As the morning sun hit the camp on the third day, Paul awoke and saw that Fox and Wylie were already up and around.

Fox: C'mon Wylie, we've gotta find the best sites to build some signal fires.

Wylie: What about them? (pointing to Paul and Scott chained by the tree)

Fox: They'll be just fine where they are, won't you Forrester? When we find the sites, we'll come back and get them to gather materials and pile them.

Paul didn't say anything, but just looked at him.

Fox: C'mon.

Later in the morning Fox and Wylie returned and Paul and Scott were taken to gather and pile the materials for the signal fires in various locations. As they were building the signal fire on the other side of the island they noticed the tremendously high breaking waves and strong wind. They were glad they had established their camp on the other side of the island where the waves were small and the wind not so severe.

In the afternoon Fox took Paul to forage for food and firewood again while Wylie fished. Fox's orders were that Scott remain chained to the tree. Scott was getting angrier by the second. Again there was no rescue.

After the camp was secured for the evening, Fox changed the blade in his razor and made a second attempt at shaving with similar results. Without hot water, the blade quickly became dull. When Fox offered him the razor, Wylie declined, electing not to punish himself again. Fox would try once more, but would retire the shaving kit and all of them would share the growing masculinity of a full beard. Fox never even thought of offering Paul a chance to shave.

By the morning of the fourth day, the body of the co-pilot was beginning to smell horrendously as the heat quickly accelerated the decomposition process.

Wylie: Sir, we _have_ to bury him! And the pilot too! The smell is getting to be just too much.

Fox: I think you're right. When the rescue 'copter comes, they can dig them up again and take them back if they want to. Okay Forrester, you're going to dig the grave. Scott, you're going to help your father remove the dirt. (takes out the key and unlocks the chain) Then you can both bury them. Get up.

Paul and Scott stood up and Fox directed them a short way down the beach to a spot he felt was appropriate. Wylie followed.

Wylie: What's he going to use to dig with sir? We don't have a shovel.

Fox threw a bamboo stick he'd carried with him at Paul's feet.

Fox: He can use that and his hands. He can put the sand into the helmet. We'll use that just like a bucket. Scott can dump the sand in a pile.

Wylie: You have any idea how long it's gonna take Forrester to dig a grave for two with a stick?

Fox: No, but the sooner he starts, the sooner he finishes.

Fox told Paul to start at a spot on the edge of the beach and to make it six feet by six feet and about the same depth. Paul started removing the loose top sand with the helmet as a scoop and handed it to Scott to pile a little ways from the hole. Shortly the sand became more solid and Paul loosened it with the bamboo stick and then scooped it up into the helmet. Wylie tried to help, but Fox insisted he stick to fishing. It was the middle of the afternoon by the time the grave was ready for its occupants.

Wylie had returned with his catch and at Fox's orders had taken the knife to cut pandanus fronds to use as a grave liner. He handed some to Paul and Paul laid a layer of them in the bottom of the grave. He then helped Paul move the body of the co-pilot and they laid it in the grave.

As Scott watched his father and Wylie pick up the body, he noticed that Fox was also watching them and not him. Wylie had gotten down in the grave with his dad and was helping cover up the body with another layer of fronds. Fox was on the other side of the grave. Scott turned and ran as fast as he could into the jungle, towards anywhere.

Fox: (yelling as he started to run) Wylie, watch Forrester! The damn kid's trying to escape!

Fox took off at a dead run with his pistol drawn after Scott. It didn't take long for Fox to catch up with the boy. The handcuffs obstructed Scott's natural motion of running and slowed him down. As Fox got close behind him, Scott's leg stride became too long; he lost his balance and fell down, rolling over twice. By the time he stopped rolling, Fox was standing over him with his gun aimed at him.

Fox: Trying to escape? We'll see about that. Get up!

Scott got up and Fox grabbed the boy's hair and started him walking back to the camp. When Paul saw Fox bringing Scott back to the camp, he jumped out of the grave and shuffled as best as he could with the leg chains, toward the camp, with Wylie in pursuit. Paul was angry at his son for trying to run away, but Fox was so terribly angry that Paul was fearful that Fox would harm him. Wylie easily caught up with Paul and tried to hold him, before he reached the camp, but Paul continued to struggle and they slowly made their way into camp.

Fox reached the camp with Scott and took him up to a tree.

Fox: (pushing hard) On your knees!

As Scott went down on his knees, Fox unlocked one of the handcuffs and pulled Scott's arms around the tree and then locked it again. As Fox stood up again, Paul and Wylie reached him.

Paul: Please Mr. Fox, don't hurt him! If you've got to hurt someone, then hurt me!

Fox: He's the one who ran away!

Paul: Please!

Fox's anger was beginning to subside and he turned what remained toward Paul.

Fox: Who said you could leave the grave! Get back over there and finish what you were doing, NOW! Wylie, you'd better watch him better.

Paul took one last look at Scott and then at Fox, who had cooled off somewhat by now, and turned to shuffle back to the grave, glancing several times over his shoulder toward Fox. Wylie followed, urging him onward. Paul slid down into the grave once again and finished covering the co-pilot's body, then looked over at Fox who was now returning to the grave-site without Scott.

Fox: Alright Forrester, up! Now you and Wylie are going to go get the pilot's body and bring him here. Then _you're_ going to finish burying them. You try any stupid tricks like your kid and I'll shoot you where you stand. Is that clear?

Paul nodded. They took the cargo net and started for the crash site. It was another hour before they returned with the body and Paul was ready to start filling in the grave. Fox gave a short prayer for the two dead men and then Wylie left the fill-in job at Fox's direction to return to fishing. As he walked past the camp he gave Scott a sympathetic look.

Scott watched his father, who occasionally glanced in his direction. He knew his father was not pleased with what he had done.

Wylie had no further luck fishing. His mind wasn't on it and the tide was too far out for success on the rocky jetty that he had found most productive. He returned to the camp and made ready to stoke up the fire and cook their supper of fish caught earlier. Fox had chained Paul to his tree a short distance away from Scott. Wylie prepared the fish and was ready to serve it to all of them, but Fox stopped him.

Fox: No, the boy doesn't get any.

Wylie: Sir?

Fox: (louder) You heard me! The boy doesn't get any! He tried to escape and as punishment, tonight he goes without. (to Paul and then Scott) And if he tries it again, he loses another meal. Divide it in three, give Forrester his share, then sit down and eat.

They'd been eating only one meal a day and Wylie gave Paul his share, then went to eat his own. Wylie desperately wanted to give Scott something to eat, but he also feared Fox's wrath. Scott had to learn not to disobey, but inside Wylie cried for the boy. Escape? It was a foolish mistake for which Scott now had to pay.

Paul kept looking at Scott as he ate his fish. As much as he wanted to give Scott some of his meal, he also knew that to try to give some of it to Scott would only mean Fox would take it away from him too and they'd both go hungry. Reluctantly and silently, he agreed with George Fox. Scott should not have tried to escape and therefore had to suffer the consequences of his actions. Still, it hurt. They went to sleep that night, separated.

But Fox was suffering too. Another migraine headache. The tension and stress were getting to him. He didn't want to deny the boy his food, but he had to punish him. Escape was not to be tolerated. He felt guilty doing what he was doing though. He took the bottle of medicine out of his pocket and swallowed another pill, noticing that he had only two more left. _With these continuing headaches I'm gonna run out of medicine,_ he thought. _If we're not rescued soon and they keep this up, sooner or later someone's gonna regret tangling with me._ He once again looked skyward, wondering when rescue from this hell would be forthcoming. He closed his eyes, feeling the pounding in his head. Even with the medication it took him half the night to fall asleep.

The following morning Fox started Paul and Scott to digging a latrine. They were taking all precautions against disease and, according to Fox, would try to maintain some semblance of civilized behavior in an uncivilized environment. Bathing facilities were being amply provided by the ocean. By the time Paul and Scott had finished digging the hole, Wylie had devised a makeshift seat out of one of the seats from the helicopter and allowed himself the distinction of being the first one to put it to use. Paul was still very angry at his son and not a word had been spoken between them during the entire project.

Fox: Okay, now back to camp.

The four of them started back and upon arrival, Fox noticed that they were low on food once again. Fox secured Scott to the chain around their tree and Wylie got ready to go fish the incoming tide.

Fox: Wylie, Forrester and I are going into the jungle to look for some more berries and nuts. While you're fishing, I want you to keep an eye on Scott. He should be okay, but watch him.

Wylie: Yes sir.

Fox: C,mon Forrester, get moving.

Wylie thought to himself, _How odd that Mr. Fox would ask me to watch Scott. Where can he go chained to a tree? I think he just likes to give orders._

Paul took a last look at his son and headed off to the same place they had found the berries before. Paul stayed silent and spoke to Fox only when Fox spoke to him. Fox wanted to tell Forrester he was sorry about last night, but misreading Paul's silence as anger, decided not to.

They came back to camp with an unexpected bonus. Paul had managed to find some fruiting papaya trees growing on the island. He didn't know what they were and brought the fruit to Fox. Fox recognized them immediately. At least they had one more thing to add to their very slim variety of foods.

When they returned to camp, Fox chained Paul with his son and went down to check on Wylie's fishing progress. Now, Paul planned to speak his mind to Scott.

Paul: (softly) Why did you try to run away yesterday? That was very foolish of you. This is an island. There's nowhere to go. Look what it got you, no food for a night and separated from me.

Scott: I don't care if this is an island and I miss a meal! I'm not going to take this crap from Fox! At least if we're free we could hide somewhere on this island, maybe even build a raft and get off here and away from him.

Paul: And how did you plan to free me? My legs are chained in case you've forgotten. I can't run with you and they would make hiding very difficult.

Scott: I don't know, but I'm gonna take advantage of every chance I get. I'm not spendin' the rest of my life in handcuffs, chained to a tree!

Paul: Scott, listen to me.

Scott: No Dad! _You_ may be content being his prisoner, but I'm gonna fight for my freedom! Even if it means fighting to my last breath! If that's what it takes, then that's what I'm gonna do!

Paul: I'm not content, Scott. I'm just resigned to the present.

Scott: Well, I'm not resigned!

Paul: You can't fight a gun.

Scott: We'll see.

There was nothing more to say. Scott was determined he was not going to listen and that he was going to break away from Fox and Wylie every chance he got, but Paul was worried his son would get hurt if he tried to escape again. He could tell that Fox had a volatile temper, and there was something else, something about Fox he had yet not figured out.

That evening Scott told Fox he had to go. Fox released Scott from the chain and the two walked to the latrine. Fifteen minutes later, Fox was pushing a screaming Scott back into camp. He roughly pushed Scott down and chained the boy back with his father, then stormed over to the lean-to.

Wylie: Sir, what happened?

Fox: Damn kid tried it again. Picked up some dirt and threw it in my face and took off. I'm gettin' fed up with it. One more time and he's gonna regret it.

Paul had listened as best he could to Fox and although he could only pick out pieces of the conversation, he knew what Scott had done. Later while Fox and Wylie were down the beach and they were alone once again, Paul decided to reason with Scott once more.

Paul: Why? Scott, I'm afraid he'll hurt you. He could kill you ...and me. Did you ever stop to think of that? I don't want anything to happen to you.

Scott: He won't shoot. He wants us alive.

Paul: I don't think I want you to test that theory. Scott, please, don't try this again. Use some common sense and stop behaving like this.

Scott: (with anger) If only we had our spheres! We could get rid of these chains.

Paul: Yes, but we don't. That's reality. Fox will never give them back.

Scott gritted his teeth and savagely pulled at his handcuffs and the chain, of course, to no avail. Paul watched him and would have liked to do the same, but knew that it was a useless waste of effort.

Paul: Scott, stop it. You'll only hurt yourself.

Scott: I hurt already! Look at my wrists, Dad! They're black 'n blue! And look at yourself!

Paul looked at his own wrists and ankles. They were getting extremely sore and chafed.

Scott clinched his hands into fists, pounding the ground and accidentally hit his father in the chin.

Paul: Ow!

Scott: (crying) I'm sorry Dad. I'm just so... (takes two breaths and suddenly yells) FOX, I WISH YOU'D DROP DEAD!

Paul was shocked his son would say such a thing, but thoroughly understood where the feeling had come from.

Paul: Scott, no. You don't mean that.

Scott: (still angry and yelling) Yes, I do!

Paul: (sadly) As a father I had hoped I had taught my son better than that. I guess I was wrong. I guess under the circumstances, you're not yet the son I thought I had.

Scott: What're you saying? I'm not your son because I wanna see that man dead for what he's doing to us?

Paul: No. You'll always be my son, and I'll always love you, but I've tried to teach you not to give in to hate and violence. It's wrong. It's destructive. Haven't you listened to me? Haven't you learned anything from me?

Scott: (calming down) Yeah, I've listened Dad. I've learned I have a father who loves me and I love you too, but look what it's gotten us. I can't help it Dad. I hate that man.

Paul: Yes, you can help it. I'll help you to do it. That's why I'm here. I don't like what Fox is doing to us either, but I don't hate him. I think I understand him. I understand that he fears us, and that fear has a lot to do with how he treats us. Maybe I can get him to lose that fear if we have the time. Someday the right time may come. Perhaps then I can change him. Up to now, that time has not come.

Scott: What if it never does?

Paul: There is that possibility. I've thought about that too. We just have to wait and see what happens. One thing at a time Scott. Now please lie down, and don't hit me again.

Scott: Sorry 'bout that.

Paul: I know.

Scott managed a smile and did as his father requested. Slowly the anger was dissipating, but Paul knew that it was lying explosively close to the surface and was barely under Scott's fragile control, just waiting to be released. He knew Scott would try to run again. Paul lay back down and thought about how he might control Scott when that day of explosion came, and how George Fox might react. It might prove to be a dangerous situation.

########################################

They had dug the grave and a latrine, but Fox had determined that they needed a dependable fresh water drinking supply and now they were digging a water well.

Wylie had gone into the jungle hunting for food while Fox guarded Paul and Scott as they dug the well. Once again Paul was doing the digging and Scott was responsible for taking away the dirt and dumping it away from the well site. The day was hot and the weather very humid. Paul had the well down around four feet now and the bottom was starting to get damp. Fox was standing a short distance away and had done nothing all morning but stand and watch. Fox was thirsty and decided to get a drink from the water jug. He took his eyes off of his prisoners for a moment while he poured some water into their one cup salvaged from the helicopter.

Scott saw his chance and took it. His father was now filling the helmet with sand that he had just finished loosening up and didn't see his son bolt off at a dead run down the beach, but out of the corner of his eye, Fox did. He dropped the cup and moved in the direction of the well.

Fox: That's it, the last straw. I've had enough of this.

Fox stopped a couple of feet from the edge of the well and obviously very angry, drew out his pistol and shouted at Scott.

Fox: Scott! Stop ... or I'll shoot!

Fox aimed his gun.

Paul stood up at Fox's shouting and saw him with the weapon in his hand aimed at Scott. _He's going to kill my son this time_, Paul thought, and he reacted as any good father would to protect his child. He shouted ...

Paul: NO!

...and grabbed the only thing within his reach to stop George Fox, his ankles, and pulled hard.

As Fox aimed beside Scott's feet, he felt Forrester's hands on his ankles and in sudden panic, and the surprise of falling, squeezed the trigger. The shot went wild and high into the air. What happened next was like watching a scene from an action movie in slow motion.

Fox rolled over, pointed his gun in Paul's direction and fired instinctively, without aiming. The impact threw Paul backward against the wall of the well and he collapsed down into it. Fox sat up, looked a second down the beach to see if he could locate Scott, then back to the well. He stood up in shock and disbelief at seeing Forrester's body lying in the bottom, still and unmoving, blood slowly spreading across the front of his shirt.

Fox: What've I done? Have I killed It?

At the sound of the first gunshot, Scott had stopped dead in his tracks and looked back, then he quickly ducked behind a palm tree. He saw Fox on the ground and his father standing in the well, then Fox rolled over and he heard the second gunshot. He saw his father fall.

Scott: Dad! No!

There were all kinds of thoughts running through Scott's head. _Fox shot my Dad. Has he killed him? Could he still be alive? Maybe he's just wounded. What'll I do now? Should I give up ... or run? DAD!_ Suddenly Scott saw Fox stand up and look in his direction.

At the sound of the gunshots, Wylie dropped the fruit that he had collected and ran back toward the camp. He burst in just in time to see Fox standing beside the well, looking down. Wylie looked into the well and saw Forrester's body laying there, the stream of blood rapidly spreading across the front of his shirt, then dripping slowly into the moist dirt.

Wylie: Mr. Fox, what happened? (pause, no answer) Mr. Fox!

Fox: (as if in a daze) Happened ... so ... fast. The kid... escaped ... and It attacked me ... I fired ...

Wylie: What?

Fox: (coming out of his daze, looks at Wylie) You see if It's ... I'm going to look for the kid.

Wylie: (as Fox turns) Mr. Fox ... the keys. I'm gonna have to get his shirt off!

Fox reached into his pocket like he was in a trance, pulled out the keys and threw them to Wylie, then started running down the beach after Scott.

Wylie stood there for a second as he watched Fox run off down the beach and then looked at Forrester. He pocketed the keys, then jumped down into the well and quickly put his fingers up to Paul's neck, feeling for the carotid artery. _Yes._ He could feel a rapid heartbeat. _He's still alive._ Wylie lifted Paul out of the well, pulled himself up and out, then carried Paul to the lean-to. He sat him down in his sleeping spot, removed the handcuffs from the injured side and carefully removed Paul's shirt, then laid him down. Blood continued to pulsate from two wounds.

Wylie grabbed the emergency medical kit and rolled Paul onto his right side and began to examine the wounds. The bullet had entered the hollow of Paul's left shoulder, just under the collarbone and about three inches in from the point and had exited directly out the back. Blood was now flowing freely from both wounds and down into the sand in the lean-to. After Wylie examined the wounds he began to apply direct pressure to stop the bleeding, Paul began to stir. Finally coming to, he started moaning.

Wylie: Shh. Lie still Forrester. You've been shot. D'you understand?

It took Paul a few seconds to recognize Wylie's voice. He opened his eyes and tried to focus on the blurry image. His eyes widened in alarming recall as he replayed the dramatic scene once more in his mind. With strength born of fear and panic, he tried to rise, calling his son's name. The intense pain and Wylie's restraining hold ended the effort and Paul collapsed once more to the ground, repeating Scott's name.

Wylie: Shh, now lie still. I've got to get this bleeding stopped.

########################################

Scott saw Fox start running in his direction and the instinct of youth for its own self preservation took over. He ran into the jungle. In his despair he left a trail that Fox would have no trouble in following. He ran until his body would carry him no further, finally collapsing beside a tree sobbing.

Scott: Dad! No! You can't be dead! You just can't be!

It took Fox no more than ten minutes to find Scott. He cautiously approached the boy with his gun still in his hand. When he spoke, he startled Scott back into reality.

Fox: Okay wiseguy, that's enough. Get up!

Scott: (still sitting, wipes his eyes and looks at Fox) Why'd you have to kill him? He didn't do anything! Why'd you shoot him down in cold blood? (his anger rising) You murderer! I saw it!

Fox: (defensively) It attacked me. I shot in self defense.

Scott: Self defense! He wasn't armed! (angrily) ... and he's **not **an It!

Fox: (now controlled) That remains to be proven kid. Besides, I don't know if I killed It or not. That's something we'll find out when we get back, won't we? Now, GET UP!

When Scott just sat there glaring at him, Fox reached down and roughly pulled him up.

Fox: Start walkin'!

Scott: Why don't you just kill me too and save yourself all this trouble!

Fox: (with more than a trace of sarcasm) Don't tempt me! NOW WALK!

########################################

Wylie continued to try to stop the flow of blood coming from the two wounds with direct pressure, but with Paul's continued attempts to rise and agitated state, he was having little success. He decided to try to take Paul's mind off of his son.

Wylie: Forrester? Did you attack Mr. Fox?

Paul: No.

Wylie: He says you did.

Paul: (his answer coming between breaths) I tripped him. ... he was going to ... kill my son. He was so ... angry.

Wylie: (as he continues to try to stop the bleeding) Tell me exactly how it happened.

Paul: Scott ... tried to escape. ...Mr. Fox ... saw Scott run ... and took his gun ... out ... He shouted, "Stop ... or I'll shoot!" ... I couldn't ... let that happen ... I couldn't ... let him kill ... my son ... so I ... tripped him.

Wylie: What happened next?

Paul: Mr. Fox fell ... and the gun fired. ... Then he ... shot me.

Wylie was silent and began to understand Forrester's reaction, but he also understood why his boss responded as he did. He might have felt that Forrester was attacking him and his reaction was the result of years of law enforcement training. Still, if Forrester was telling him the truth, he had to admire Forrester's courage in doing what he did. He had risked his life to save his son's with no thought to his own safety.

Paul cried out as Wylie applied more pressure to try to stop the continued bleeding.

Wylie: I'm sorry. I don't mean to hurt you, but I can't seem to get you to stop bleeding.

Paul: (nods) Wylie ... my son ... Fox ... if he finds him.

Wylie: He won't kill him, Forrester. He _won't_. He seemed more surprised that he shot you than angry when he left to look for him. Don't worry. It'll be alright. Right now I want you to _please_ calm down.

Paul nodded again and closing his eyes, lay quietly. A thought and a question came to him.

Paul: (whispers) Wylie?

Wylie: Yes? What is it?

Paul: My sphere ... please ... ask Mr. Fox ... to let me have it. ... I ... can heal ... this body. ... I'll give it back ... when I'm finished ... I promise.

Wylie did not answer Paul.

Paul: (after a few seconds) Please Wylie ... will you ask him?

Wylie: (gently, to keep Paul calm) Okay, I'll ask.

Paul nodded weakly. The pain was becoming intolerable. Paul passed out.

Wylie: Forrester? Forrester!

Wylie registered concern and wished that his boss would hurry back. He needed the extra help. For now, all he could do was wait, keep applying direct pressure and watch Forrester bleed.

########################################

Scott started back to camp when Fox shoved the gun into his back and pushed him. He tried to focus his entire attention on Fox's line, _I don't know if I killed him or not._ Scott prayed with all his heart that his father would still be alive, but he vividly remembered the gunshot and seeing his dad fall.

Wylie looked up to see Scott and Fox walking into camp. The boy ran the last twenty feet to stop and kneel down in front of his father.

Scott: Is he ...?

Fox had run after Scott, grabbed him and roughly dragged him, loudly protesting, back to the tree and chained him there. Fox glanced at Forrester, then back to Scott. Scott looked over toward Wylie his question did not require words.

Wylie: (to Scott as much as to Fox) He's alive.

Fox walked back to Wylie and knelt down beside him looking at Forrester.

Fox: Well, how bad? (indicates Paul with a slight motion of his head)

Wylie: ( again loud enough so Scott could hear) Shoulder wound.

Fox: Bullet still in?

Wylie: No. Passed clean through. (glancing at Fox) Bullet apparently severed a main artery though. He's lost a lot of blood already. I'm doing the best I can, but I can't seem to get the bleeding stopped.

Fox: (turning to Scott) You see, It's not dead after all. Lucky I'd say, for It ... and you.

Scott: He's **not **an **IT! **He's not!

Fox: That still remains to be proven. I guess we'll find out what it is when we get back. (looking back to Wylie) Well, do the best you can.

Wylie: Sir, I can't seem to remember where the pressure point is to stop bleeding in the shoulder, do you?

Fox: No.

Scott: (overhearing) I do! It's behind the collarbone and close to the neck. I just had a first aid course in health class the last time I was in school.

Fox: That's for a **HUMAN**!

Scott: (angrily) My father IS human!

Wylie: (with concern) Mr. Fox. I need your help. Will you try it sir? If we don't do something fast, Forrester is going to bleed to death.

Fox: Okay, what do I do?

Wylie: I need another hand. Can you find the right place and apply some pressure. I don't want to let the direct pressure off.

Fox: How do I know when I have it?

Scott: Just press, then feel for the pulse. You'll feel the pulse when you restrict the blood flow.

Fox: (reaching behind Paul's collarbone and pressing) I don't feel anything. I told you he's not human.

Scott: (in desperation) Move your fingers a little and try again. Please hurry! Please don't let him die!

Fox: (after a couple more tries) Okay, I think I have it.

Wylie let the pressure off one wound for a moment and noted the lack of blood flow, then resumed the pressure.

Wylie: You've got it sir.

Paul came to again and moaned in pain as the pressure was once again applied.

Scott: Now just hold it for a few minutes. You need to give the blood a chance to clot.

After what seemed like an hour instead of ten minutes, Wylie let the direct pressure off the dressing over one of the open wounds and asked Fox to let the pressure off the artery.

Wylie: (with a sigh of relief) Thank God, it's stopped now. Forrester lay very still. I'm going to tape these dressings down as tightly as I can.

Fox got up and walked down to the water and proceeded to wash off the blood he'd gotten on his hands. Wylie taped down the dressings and then walked down to the water after him.

Wylie: Mr. Fox?

Fox: What.

Wylie: Sir ... Forrester asked me if I'd ask you to give him back the sphere to let him heal himself.

Fox: What! ... What did you tell him?

Wylie: Nothing. I just told him I'd ask you.

Fox thought about telling Forrester that he didn't have the 'spheres' but reconsidered. _Why should I tell It I don't have 'em? If It thinks I do, maybe It'll reveal Its true nature in an attempt to get 'em back. No. I'll let It think I have 'em._

Fox: Good. Don't let 'em know we don't have 'em.

Wylie: Why not sir?

Fox: (annoyance in his voice) I've got my reasons. ... Are you questioning my decision?

Wylie: No sir, but would you give it back to him even if we did have 'em?

Fox: Of course not. I've seen what It can do with one.

Wylie: Yes sir.

Fox: Right now, I'll keep an eye on Forrester and the kid. You go try to find us something to eat, alright? (sees Wylie look at Forrester) Don't worry about It. I won't hurt It unless It tries something else stupid.

Wylie: Yes sir. ... Uh sir? If I may suggest? ... You may try cleaning things up a little.

Fox: You can do that when you get back.

Wylie: Maybe I'd better do it now. I'll use his shirt; it needs to be washed out anyway.

Fox nodded. Wylie walked down to the water, wet Paul's shirt, then brought it back to the lean-to and proceeded to wash the blood off of Paul's back and chest. He dug out the sand where the blood had dripped, taking it with him down to the water in the shirt. He dumped the sand in the water, washed the shirt, and returning to the lean-to, hung the shirt on a bush to dry.

Fox: (with irritation) Enough. Now get going. You don't have all day you know.

Wylie: Yes sir.

Despite Fox's promise, Wylie _was_ concerned that Fox _would _do something to hurt them. He was beginning to have second thoughts about his boss's actions. _I wonder why he's so worried about Scott running away. After all, where can he run to?_ Wylie shrugged his shoulders and went into the jungle to retrieve the fruit he had dropped earlier. He returned to camp then left to go fishing.

As Fox had walked back to the lean-to and sat down facing Paul, he noticed the extremely agitated look Scott gave him. He looked at the alien again.

Fox: Well Forrester, you're damn lucky I didn't kill you. Next time, if there is one, you may not be so lucky.

Paul looked at Fox for a moment, then made a decision to confront his situation directly.

Paul: (whispering) Mr. Fox?

Fox: What?

Paul: My sphere ... please let me have it. ... I can heal ... this injury. ... I'll ... give it back ... when I'm finished ... I promise.

Fox: Are you kidding? Do you take me for a fool? Wylie said you'd asked him to ask me. Well you can just forget it. Do you think I'd give you power over me by giving that thing back to you?

Paul: (shocked at Fox's refusal) But the pain ... I can ... stop the pain ... and heal the wounds.

Fox: Yeah sure, and take control away from me.

Paul: No, I wouldn't.

Fox: Your son keeps insisting that you're not an It. I assume he's trying to say you're human. If so, your wounds will heal the same as the rest of us ... and pain is part of it!

Paul continued to stare in disbelief at Fox's refusal to allow him the sphere to stop the incredible pain. Now he began to feel despair. His one hope, the instrument that was his edge over these violent people, would not be made available to him. He would now have to tolerate this pain as any normal human would.

Paul said no more to Fox, but just lay there still. He dared not move at all in fear of starting to bleed again, and his gaze continued to catch Fox's periodic look. All he wanted to do now was sleep, but the pain prevented it.

As he saw a look of despair come over the alien's face, Fox felt another migraine coming and pulled out the bottle of pills from his pants pocket. He opened the container and dumped the last pill into his hand and popped it into his mouth. As he swallowed the pill he thought to himself, _I don't want to hurt It. I just want to prove to the world that this alien is a danger. Today It provided me with further evidence when It attacked me. Whenever rescue __**does**__ come, I'll give 'em my recommendation for Its fate, if I don't have to kill It first. ... permanent incarceration for whatever purposes our government sees fit._"

Fox felt extremely uncomfortable sitting so close to the alien after Wylie left, but he had said he would watch It. But now, to make matters worse, every time he glanced at It, he found It staring back.

Fox: (angrily) What're _you_ looking at?

Paul's entire attention was focused on trying to overcome the pain that he was experiencing and when he did not answer, Fox became infuriated. He reached into the pocket of the rolled up suit jacket which he'd been using as a pillow, pulled out his necktie and went in back of Paul, roughly blindfolding him with it.

Fox: There! That'll take care of your damn eyes starin' at me! I haven't done anything wrong!

Just then Wylie returned with some more fruit. He put the fruit down, then noticed what Fox had done.

Wylie: (questioning) Sir! What are you doing?

Fox: I'm sick of It staring at me! Every time I look up, It's staring at me! (pause sarcastically) Does that give you some kind of problem, Wylie?

Wylie: No sir.

Fox: Good. Then I suggest you go get us some fish. I'll stoke up the fire again.

Wylie picked up the spear and walked off down the beach. After he stoked up the fire, Fox noticed that Wylie had not replaced the handcuffs on the alien and that they were hanging from one of Its wrists. _Damn that Wylie. He should know better than that,_ and Fox once again secured the handcuffs in place. Paul jumped slightly as Fox touched him and moaned as Fox moved his arm to accommodate a required change of position.

Fox: Lie still, or do you want to start bleeding again?

A couple hours later Wylie came back with several fish, all cleaned and ready to cook. Soon they were ready to eat. Fox did not want to feed or have anything further to do with the alien today. He took his fish, placed it on a leaf and stood up to leave.

Fox: You feed 'em! I'm gonna eat by myself and I don't want to be disturbed. Understand?

Wylie: Yes sir.

Fox walked off some distance and sat on the beach. Wylie took a fish and some fruit and gave it to Scott, then returned to the camp fire and broke another fish into bite size pieces for Paul. He placed the fish on a leaf and sat in front of Paul, noticing that he was once again handcuffed.

Paul heard movement over him, then felt gentle hands removing the blindfold. He opened his eyes and in the bright light tried to focus on the shadowy figure in front of him. He knew it was Wylie.

Wylie: Forrester? You okay?

Paul: ( after a few seconds, whispers ) Yes.

Wylie: (smiles) Here's your share. Eat ...

Paul: (weakly) I can't.

Wylie: The handcuffs? Would you like me to feed you?

Paul: No, I'm just not hungry. The pain ... it hurts too much ... I'm sorry.

Wylie: (sympathetically) I understand. But here's some water. You need to drink something.

Wylie held the cup and Paul took several small swallows of water.

Wylie: Are you sure you won't try some papaya? You have to eat something to get your strength back.

Paul: I'll try.

Wylie: (putting a small piece in Paul's mouth) There. (as Paul swallows) That's it. Good.

Paul: (after two more VERY small pieces) Please, no more.

Wylie sat down and ate some of his own food and then returned his attention to Paul.

Wylie: Are you sure you don't want any more to eat?

Paul: Thirsty. More water.

_The pain and blood loss have sapped his strength_ Wylie thought. Then he noticed that while he was eating Paul had gotten very pale and was beginning to shiver.

Wylie: Are you cold Forrester?

Paul nodded ever so slightly, his gaze never moving. Wylie checked his pulse and found it weak and his skin damp to the touch. Recognizing the first signs of shock, Wylie quickly grabbed his blanket and wrapped it around him as much as he could. He remembered from a first aid course of long ago that it was very important to keep a shock victim warm. Scott noticed Wylie's sudden change in attitude and the urgency of his movements and became alarmed.

Scott: Mr. Wylie, what's wrong?

Wylie: (not wanting to get Scott worried) Nothing Scott.

Scott: You're lying to me! Something is wrong! (pauses for a moment and repeats Wylie's last question to his dad) ... are you cold? (with sudden realization) SHOCK! ... No! He's going into shock!

All Scott could think of, at that moment, from his first aid course was the bold type portion of the book regarding shock, _Get medical aid as soon as possible._

Scott: No Dad! Not now! There is no medical aid!

Wylie: (now aware of the boy's fear) Scott, calm down. It could be shock, but that's not for certain. I'm going to treat it like it is, just in case.

Wylie tried to recall the checklist of things necessary for treating shock under field conditions that he had learned in that last first aid class of years ago, then turned to look at Scott. He saw the look of deep concern written on the boy's face.

Wylie: Scott, you said you just had first aid? Tell me what to do, one step at a time.

Scott took a deep breath and pictured in his mind, one at a time, the notes that he'd taken dealing with shock, Scott had instant recall and momentarily began to relate instructions.

Scott: Keep air passages open.

Wylie: Okay.

Scott: Loosen clothing.

Wylie: ... no problem.

Scott: Plenty of fresh air.

Wylie: ... plenty of that here.

Scott: Lower head and raise feet.

Wylie: (removing his rolled up jacket from where it was under Paul's head, repositions it under his knees, then gets the travel bag and places it under Paul's legs) ... okay.

Scott: No fluids.

Wylie: ... right.

Scott: Reassure and get to a doctor.

Wylie: ... okay; getting to a doctor, I guess we have to bag that one. Right now, that's me.

Scott: Mr. Wylie, please let me loose so I can help.

Wylie: I'm sorry Scott, I can't. Mr. Fox wouldn't approve.

Scott: Please! I wanna be with him!

Wylie: I know, but I can't. I'm sorry.

Paul was only vaguely aware that he was the subject of the conversation between his son and Wylie. His mind kept wandering and he found it difficult to concentrate for long on any one thing, but finally forced himself to focus on one thought.

Paul: Water, please!

Wylie: (remembering Scott's checklist) No, you shouldn't drink right now, maybe after a while, okay? Now try to sleep. Don't be afraid. I'll be watching you.

As Paul closed his eyes, Wylie picked up Paul's uneaten food and took it over to Scott.

Wylie: Thank you for your help. I think we have it under control now. The rest is up to him. Here. (hands him the uneaten fish and papaya) He shouldn't eat right now.

Scott: Is he going to be alright?

Wylie: I think so. I'll keep a close watch on 'im. Don't worry, okay?

Scott: (his look reflecting grave concern) I'll try ... and thanks.

Scott slowly ate the extra food, but kept his eyes on his wounded father. Scott now deeply regretted that he had tried _this_ escape. He was so certain Fox would not shoot that he had dismissed it in his naivety as a complete impossibility, but his father had not. He had warned him. _I don't think I want you to test that theory._ He was right. His father was now paying for his stupidity. _Why didn't I listen?_, he thought. Suddenly his own freedom did not seem important at all. His father's life was hanging in the balance and took complete precedence. It was a mistake he determined, if he were given the chance, he'd never repeat again.

Wylie stayed beside Paul as he ate the rest of his own meal. He looked at Fox sitting in the distance. _What's wrong with him?_, he thought. _Has he cracked, or does he feel guilty about shooting Forrester? Is that why he's sitting alone? ... Maybe another headache?_ Wylie always knew his boss had a stormy temper and that he frequently suffered from headaches. For these reasons, working with Fox had not always been easy. He could be vehement one second, gentle and considerate the next. But what happened to Forrester today and his boss's attitude in general towards the prisoners, in particular toward the injured alien, caused him to seriously question Fox's actions. _I hope Forrester will be alright._

It was early afternoon and Scott saw Fox walking toward camp again. He gave Fox a stare colder than ice as Fox walked over to where Wylie was sitting beside his father.

Fox knelt down beside Paul to talk to Wylie. This time Paul turned his eyes away and did not look at Mr. Fox, as even in his confused state of mind, he knew that it obviously irritated him and he did not want to be blindfolded again. His whole body was now throbbing from the pain, but now his mind was tired of fighting it. He closed his eyes and gradually fell into an exhausted, pain relieving sleep.

Fox: Give me the keys. I'm taking the kid with me. You stay with Forrester. (then noticing Wylie's blanket) ... you givin' it your blanket?

Wylie: (very softly) He's pale, his skin is cold and damp and he's shivering. That's shock sir! He's lost a lot of blood.

Fox: Alright, alright, enough with the lectures!

Fox walked over to where Scott was chained.

Fox: Alright Scott, time to go to work. (as he releases the chain) You're gonna finish the well now, seein' your father is ... disabled. C'mon.

Scott: Please Mr. Fox, can't I stay here with my Dad? I'm worried. I want to be with him.

Fox: You can worry just as well while you're digging, can't you? And the sooner you get the job done, the sooner you'll be back. (motioning in the direction of the well) Now move.

Scott moved off at Fox's gesture, but continued to look briefly over his shoulder at his father, unable to quell the tears once again forming in his eyes. _If Dad dies, it's all my fault,_, he thought. _Why didn't I listen?_

Scott finished digging the well by dusk and Fox retired him to the tree for the night. Fox came over to Wylie.

Fox: Well, how is It?

Wylie: (quietly) He's still in shock. I don't know if he's asleep or out.

Fox: Uh huh. Well, you stay up and watch It. I'm going to sleep over there. (pointing to a spot about ten feet away)

After a brief discussion Fox had consented to leaving Paul in the lean- to rather than attempting to move him while he was in shock and with the possibility that a move might cause him to bleed again.

Fox: Wake me up at midnight, then I'll take over until morning.

Wylie: Yes sir.

Fox: Goodnight.

Wylie: Goodnight Mr. Fox.

Wylie carefully tucked in the blanket, pulling it up around Paul's neck and over his head, leaving only his face exposed. Then he felt Paul's forehead. "Feels so cold", he said to himself.

Wylie watched Paul for a little while and then noticed that he was beginning to shake even in his sleep. Wylie pondered the problem momentarily, then crawled under the blanket and placed his body up against Paul's to provide him with his own body heat. At midnight the alarm on his digital watch chimed and he got up, awakened Fox and then started to return to his position under the blanket.

Fox: (surprised) What are you doing?

Wylie: Trying to keep him warm sir. He feels so cold, and he's shaking. If he goes further into shock, he might die.

Fox: (with a distasteful look on his face) How can you stand to lie so close to It?

Wylie: I couldn't think of a better way to keep him warm.

Fox: _It_, Wylie.

Wylie: Whatever, but I don't want _It_ to die.

########################################

When Wylie opened his eyes in the morning he saw Fox sitting nearby watching him. Paul was still asleep. Wylie noticed that Scott was also awake and listening for any news about his father.

Wylie: (to Fox) How is he sir?

Fox: Didn't move much during the night and still looks pale. I guess he's still in shock.

Wylie: (with confidence) No. I don't think so. I noticed he stopped shivering during the night and his skin has warmed considerably. His pulse is better too. I think the paleness is from loss of blood.

Fox: Well you can watch Forrester while I take Scott and try to find us something to eat. When we get back you can go fishing again.

Wylie continued to watch Paul through the rest of the morning and into the early afternoon. He felt that Paul seemed to be out of danger of slipping back into shock, but decided to keep Paul's legs elevated anyway. Paul had continued to sleep for the most part, awakening only briefly and had remained almost motionless lying on his right side. Wylie moved over to Paul and lifted the blanket to check the bandages for any further evidence of bleeding. Paul stirred slightly, but continued to sleep. The bandages showed distinct signs of clotting having occurred and he breathed a sigh of relief. Their combined efforts had overcome two possible life threatening situations.

Wylie covered him up again and then reached over and put his hand on Paul's forehead. He noticed that instead of the cold, damp feeling of the night before, that Paul was now warm, warmer than Wylie felt was normal. _Slight fever_, he thought to himself. _I guess that's next_.

Paul awoke suddenly at Wylie's touch, jumping slightly, then relaxing when he recognized him.

Wylie: I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. Is there anything I can get for you?

Paul: (very softly) Water, ... so thirsty.

Wylie poured some air-warmed water from their water jug into the cup and lifted Paul's head slightly, planning to let him drink all he wanted, but Paul bolted the water down so fast that he started to choke and cough and Wylie finally had to remove it.

Wylie: Whoa there, easy ... easy! (as Paul's coughing subsides) You alright now?

Paul: Yes. The water went down the wrong way.

Wylie: That's because you tried to drink too fast ... especially while lying down.

Paul: More please.

Wylie: In a while. I don't want you to get sick ... and take it slow and easy next time.

Wylie waited fifteen minutes and then gave Paul some more water. Wylie reminded Paul to be careful and drink slow.

Paul listened and had no further trouble with choking. Wylie repeated the procedure several more times until Paul seemed to be satisfied and had dropped off to sleep once again.

Fox and Scott returned to camp with some additional fruit and Scott was once again chained to the tree. Fox was ready to take over the watch. Noticing that Scott was once again listening intently to every word they spoke, Wylie told Fox about the fever and that Forrester should have as much water as he wanted, but not in too large an amount at once. He turned and glanced at Scott and noticed the worried look on the boy's face. As he grabbed the spear to leave, he walked over to the boy anticipating the question he knew was coming.

Scott: Is my father going to be alright?

Wylie: I hope so. You heard me telling Mr. Fox that he's getting a fever didn't you?

Scott: Yes. Is there anything we can do?

Wylie: Pray I guess. Pray that the wounds don't get infected.

Wylie could see the tears beginning to come into the boy's eyes once again. He knew Scott had to be feeling guilty over what happened and he could empathize with him. He could remember back to a time when a childish prank had almost cost his brother his life. What was to have been a joke of pulling the chair Sam was standing on out from under him, turned into a crisis when Sam fell and hit his head on the kitchen counter. But the guilt he felt then was just as real as the guilt he knew Scott was feeling. Sam's accident had been his fault just as surely as this accident was Scott's fault. He so wanted to comfort the boy in his grief, but knew that Fox would not approve. He also knew that Scott had to assume responsibility for his own actions.

Wylie continued on his way to his fishing spot, returning in a while with a catch adequate for four and bountiful for the three who shared it. During one of Paul's brief wakeful periods he once again showed no appetite whatsoever, but did display an ample thirst so often associated with a rising fever.

When darkness came they retired for the night. Fox had determined that it would not be necessary for someone to stand watch tonight as it appeared that all the alien was going to do was sleep anyway. Wylie slept next to Paul, but decided not to sleep under the cover with him as the evening was quite warm and his patient seemed to be providing enough heat of his own. Fox once again slept in the spot he had chosen the night before about ten feet away. It had been a long day for everyone and sleep born of exhaustion came quickly over everyone in the camp.

Wylie awoke just before dawn and for the third time that night, sleepily reached over toward Paul. He ran his hand under the blanket to check for any increase in Paul's temperature and was shocked completely awake when he found nothing under the blanket. In the pre-dawn darkness he looked around but could not see him anywhere in the lean-to. He got up and went over to where Fox was sleeping to awaken him.

Wylie: (gently) Mr. Fox.

Fox began to stir and then jumped suddenly upright when he saw a figure standing over him.

Wylie: (louder) Mr. Fox?

Fox relaxed once again as he recognized his associate and responded with not just a bit of irritation.

Fox: What do you want?

Wylie: (whispering) Mr. Fox, Forrester's gone.

Fox: (loudly) What? ... Gone where?

Wylie: I don't know sir. I was gonna try to look for him, but I thought you might wanna know.

Fox leaped to his feet and started up the beach barefoot.

Fox: I'll go this way, you check the other.

Wylie: (questioningly) It's kinda dark sir. Can't see much yet.

Fox: Well do your best! We've got to find him!

Fox took off up the beach. Wylie felt around for his shoes and noticed a depression in the sand. He continued to follow it with his hands and noticed that it seemed to be leading directly down to the beach. He yelled to Fox.

Wylie: Mr. Fox, come back! I think I've found his trail! He apparently crawled away.

Scott: (awakened by the shouts, asks) What's going on? Tell me what's going on ... please?

Wylie: Your dad's gone.

Scott: Gone! Gone where?

Wylie: I don't know for sure.

Wylie forgot about his shoes. The dawn was just breaking on the horizon enough now that he could see the trail in the sand, first of a body being dragged and then apparently standing, falling, standing again and finally moving ... toward the surf.

Wylie: I think he went down to the water!

Scott jerked repeatedly at the chain confining him to the tree and pleaded with his captors to release him, but no one was listening.

As Wylie followed the trail down toward the water, Fox had almost caught up with him. They both saw the outline of something lying on the beach, waves washing over it, and started running. Wylie reached Paul first and was down on his hands and knees lifting Paul's head and shoulders above the rolling water of another wave as it ran out onto the shore, when Fox arrived.

Wylie: (feeling for a pulse, gets excited) My God, it's a miracle he hasn't drowned!

Fox: (his voice reflecting some concern) I wonder how long he's been down here?

Wylie: I don't know sir. I must have been sleeping pretty soundly. I'm sorry. I didn't know he'd crawled away. It must be the fever. He's burning up.

Fox: Well, let's get him back up to the lean-to.

Paul had recovered consciousness when Wylie began to lift him. He was beyond feeling the pain of his shoulder wound now, but he recognized Wylie's touch and he heard Fox's voice through his delirium.

Paul: (softly, almost inaudible) No.

Fox: What did he say?

Wylie: He said 'no'.

Fox: No? ... We can't leave him here.

Paul: Please ... (weakly) ... too hot ...

Wylie: He says he's too hot. I think he wants us to leave him in the water.

Paul: Yes ... must cool body ... can't live this hot (passes out).

Wylie: (with concern) Forrester? Can you hear me? Sir, he's passed out.

Fox: (to Wylie with a slight bit of irritating tone) Well you can sit here in the water with It if you want to, I'm not!

Wylie: (defiantly) I _will_ sir!

Fox: No, you've got better things to do. We need the fish. (demanding) Take him back to camp.

Wylie: I think the water's better for him sir. ... How about the boy? I'm sure Scott would want to stay here with him.

Fox: Yeah, I'll just bet he would! He wouldn't have to do any work then ... Besides, one of us would have to sit here and watch him.

Wylie: One of us will have to sit with Forrester anyway sir. You watch Scott while I'm fishing and I'll take care of Forrester when you take Scott gathering.

Fox: Well, (long pause) okay. You can take care of It now and I'll get the kid and go get some more firewood. I'll tell him the plan. (mumbling with his eyes closed before starting back to camp) ... I sure don't need this kind of stress.

And so the days fell into a routine. In the mornings Fox and Scott would gather food and wood and when they returned, Fox would secure Scott to the tree and take over the watch while Wylie fished or collected wood. When Paul's fever got too high he would tell whomever was on duty and Wylie, or Scott if Fox had the duty, and they'd help him down into the water until it went down again. They would eat their one meal in the late afternoon. Fox consented to the removal of Paul's leg chains so that it would be easier to get him down to the water and back, but he insisted that Scott wear them instead so that there was no chance that they could both run off together.

The second day, while foraging for firewood, Fox and Scott discovered some banana plants and after Fox had determined that they had collected enough wood, they went back so they could pick some of the ripe bananas. It was another added blessing to their slowly expanding diet.

While picking the bananas they noticed a strong smell of sulfur in the air and after a brief search came across a relatively large hot spring pool about ten minutes from their camp. This would provide Fox and Wylie with another semblance of civilized convenience now, the hot bath, but because the pool went directly into deep water with no shallow ledges, and would require that the user be able to swim and pull himself up onto the shore, Paul and Scott would be required to continue to use the ocean water in front of the camp.

The medical kit from the helicopter had long since run out of antiseptic and Paul's wounds had begun to show definite signs of infection. Fox looked around the hot spring and noticed deposits of the yellow sulfur adhering to the rocks. He thought back to his grandfather successfully using sulfur as an ointment for open wounds and he chipped some of the hardened yellow material carefully into his hand with a rock and brought it back to the camp, instructing Wylie to somehow grind it into powder and dust it into the wounds. Wylie argued, but Fox was adamant and Wylie finally conceded.

This afternoon Wylie had asked Fox if he could take Scott with him to help with a large log that he had found leaving an irritated George Fox thinking as he looked down at the sleeping alien, _First we gotta baby you while you use up all our medical supplies and now we gotta do all the work while you just lay around. We'd've been better off if I __**had**__ killed you._ Fox watched Forrester with a look of utter distaste on his face. He had, however, agreed to watch Forrester this one time and was now sitting in the wave slosh holding Its head and shoulders above the water. Paul's fever had once again spiked while they were gone and Fox was forced to take the feverish alien into the water to cool down.

Paul lay there, his eyes closed and his breathing slightly faster than normal, and an occasional hard swallow the only indication of the life and death battle waging within him. Fox looked at the still feverish alien lying in his arms with utter distaste. He muttered softly once again, under his breath and unknowingly, just loud enough for Paul to hear. He repeated the words he'd said earlier with the same contempt.

Fox: I should've killed you. We'd all be better off.

To Fox's complete and utter surprise, Paul answered him.

Paul: (with his eyes still closed) Then why don't you? (opens eyes) If you despise me that much; then take your gun and kill me, or hold my head under the water and drown me. You could easily get away with calling my death accidental. I won't stop you. I couldn't even if I wanted to. I don't have the strength to fight you. (pause) You hold my life in your hands.

Fox: (quietly with contempt, looks into Paul's face) If I only could, but you're my proof, my evidence. The powers that be in Washington, _they_ want you alive, so they'll _get_ you alive. Those are my orders. If _they_ want you dead, then _they_ can kill you ... with my blessing. (looks up and shouts at Wylie who was just coming back into camp with Scott after stopping at the latrine) Wylie!

Wylie: (surprised to see Fox in the water with Paul) Yes sir?

Fox: I think Forrester has cooled down enough. You two get It back to the lean-to.

Wylie and Scott walked up and walked Paul back to the lean-to and proceeded to lay him down.

Fox: I'm going for a walk. You watch ... IT.

Wylie: (softly) Yes sir.

Fox took off down the beach, alone.

########################################

Within the next couple of days the sulfur seemed to be helping and much to everyone's delight, the infection began to respond. Paul was slowly recovering. The extremely high fever started to go down in the afternoon of the fourth day and now some color was returning to his face. His appetite had returned somewhat, although he was still very weak and would probably continue to run a lower grade fever until the shoulder was healed. Paul still spent a great deal of his day sleeping and one of them would remain in camp to watch him.

It was now the morning of the seventh day since Paul had been shot. Fox woke up very irritable again. They were all getting tired from the day and night vigil over Paul's fever, but Fox seemed to be more annoyed at it than Wylie. He looked down at Paul as if he were a waste of food and water. He was determined to get Forrester up and doing something.

Fox: (to Wylie) How's Forrester this morning?

Wylie: Alright, the fever seems to be down but he's still weak.

Fox: Or maybe It's just fakin' it.

Fox reached for Paul's arm at the elbow.

Wylie: No sir! DON'T!

Fox gave Wylie a dirty look and with a heave, jerked Paul to a sitting position. Paul cried out in agony and promptly fell back when Fox let go. He slowly took his right hand and brought it up to his injured shoulder, dragging his left arm uselessly by the handcuff, softly whimpering with each breath.

Wylie quickly stepped forward and examined Paul's wounds.

Wylie: (reassuring Paul) Easy Forrester. Let me look, okay? Just take it easy.

Wylie saw fresh blood, serum and drainage slowly oozing from under the bandage on Paul's back. Angrily he shouted at Fox as he applied direct pressure for the first time since the accident, to the dressing covering the wound.

Wylie: Well, NOW you've done it! You've re-opened the wound! He's bleeding again! I told you not to do it! Why can't you just leave him alone?

Fox: (loudly) Okay, I'm sorry! So Forrester wasn't faking. (pause) Do what you can. ... I'm sorry!

Wylie: (with anger and a loss of patience) Yes sir!

Fox watched as Wylie tended the wound until it stopped bleeding. He once again cleaned the mess off Paul's back, dusted the wounds with the sulfur powder and repositioned the crude bandage.

Fox: (Impatiently) Okay Wylie, Forrester can stay here in camp, but get It back to the tree and secure It there. The kid and I are gonna gather some more food and you can go fishing now.

Wylie: I can go fishing anyway. Forrester's not going to go anywhere.

Fox: It took off before when we didn't think It could, didn't It?

Wylie: But that was different. Besides, he didn't try to run away. After all, where can he go? And why would he want to? You'll have his son with you. Please leave him right here. I'm sure he won't move.

Once again Fox eyed Wylie with his 'don't tangle with me look'.

Wylie: (conceding) Okay. I'll secure 'im to the tree.

Fox: Alright. C'mon Scott.

Scott cast a worried look at his father, then walked off with Fox. Wylie half lifted Paul to his feet and helped him walk to the tree and lay down again to be secured as Fox demanded. Paul watched Scott as he walked off with Fox.

Wylie: (as he fastens the chain) I'm sorry for this. I hope I haven't hurt you.

Paul: I know, and no you didn't. Thank you for helping me.

Wylie: (puts a hand on Paul's arm to comfort) You're welcome. Mr. Fox shouldn't have done that to you. I don't know why he wouldn't listen.

Wylie got the blanket and covered Paul, then sat down next to him in silence for a brief moment.

Paul: Wylie, may I ask you something?

Wylie: Sure. Go ahead.

Paul: What does Mr. Fox take medication for?

Wylie: Medication? I didn't know he did. Are you sure?

Paul: Yes. I recognized the bottle. It was brown with a typed label. I've seen prescription medicine bottles before.

Wylie: Yes, that's what they look like alright. I know he takes aspirin for occasional headaches, but I don't think he has a prescription for that.

Paul: I saw him taking ... prescription medicine. I think he used the last pill. The bottle seemed to be empty.

Wylie: Oh? When did you see that?

Paul: The day he shot me, after you took care of my wounds and went fishing.

Wylie: I didn't know. He never told me he was taking prescription drugs. Listen, Mr. Fox won't bother you again, at least not today, or tomorrow if I can help it. Go back to sleep if you can. You need the rest to heal ... (with resentment at Fox) a _lot_ of rest.

Paul nodded and closed his eyes. Wylie took his spear and as Fox had instructed, headed down to the beach to go fishing. As he was fishing he began to think about what Forrester had told him about the medicine. _Perhaps that's an explanation for his rude behavior toward everyone. This was close. If I can just keep Mr. Fox away from him until he heals._

That night Paul was left with Scott. Father and son were both thankful. It was the first time since Paul had been shot that they were together without Fox or Wylie guarding them. Scott was happy to be with his Dad again, but deep inside he was angry.

Scott: (whispering) Dad, when is it going to stop? When is Fox gonna stop treating us like animals?

Paul: I think you're responsible for that. If you hadn't tried to escape things might be different. You've managed to destroy any chance we had of his trusting us. I'd been hoping that Fox would realize what he's doing to us or at least recognize that we're not a threat to him, but that's all gone now. Scott, I hate to say this, but all you've managed to do is reinforce his fear of us.

Scott: Dad, I'm sorry. What was I supposed to do, just sit back and take it?

Paul: Yes. And I don't want you to do anything else to antagonize him. _Do _what he tells you to do. No matter how he treats you ... or me, just take it. _Don't_ retaliate or question him about anything he asks you to do. You were lucky Scott. I believe he was going to kill you. When I had to trip him to prevent that I confirmed his fear of me.

Scott: Yeah ... and he shot you!

Paul: Yes, he shot me. The point is that the first bullet was meant for you. If he had gotten that shot off, you would most likely be dead right now. You're my son, ...my life. You're my reason for living and remaining here on Earth. I love you Scott, and I don't want anything to happen to you.

Scott: I love you too Dad, but ...

Paul: No Scott. no buts, ... promise me you won't try to escape again and that you'll behave yourself. Bullet wounds really hurt, but bullets can also kill. I don't like pain Scott, and I don't want either of us to die.

Scott: Okay, I promise, I won't try to do anything to antagonize him, but I hate that man.

Paul: I know, but you can do it. Now let's try to get some sleep.

########################################

Two days later, Fox insisted on putting Paul to work despite Wylie's protests that Paul was still too weak to work. Paul looked Wylie in the eye and silently told him, _It's alright. I think I can do it._ Paul was once again required to wear the restraining leg irons. After having worn them for only a short time, Scott felt sorry for his father. The only thing Wylie managed to accomplish in Paul's favor was getting a concession from Fox to keep the work light. Wylie took a triangular bandage out of their almost depleted medical kit and made a sling for Paul's arm. He then used the rolled bandage from Paul's earlier knee injury and secured Paul's arm to his body to immobilize the shoulder while he was out with Fox. _If Mr. Fox isn't too hard on Forrester_ he thought, _perhaps the shoulder will heal properly. However, if Fox pushes and abuses him, his shoulder could be crippled for life._ Wylie prayed his boss would be reasonable with Forrester.

Fox took Paul and Scott firewood gathering. It was getting to the point that they were exhausting the good firewood that was close to camp and had to forage further and further to find their supply.

Paul was still handcuffed with one arm tied to his body, but he and Scott developed a system that worked. Scott collected the pieces of wood they found and placed them in the crook of his father's other arm until Paul could carry no more. He would then collect as much as he could pick up and hold with handcuffs on, and they would return to the camp. Scott would drop his wood and then take his father's, stacking it a short distance from the fire pit as he removed it. Then he would stack what he had brought. Fox seemed to be satisfied that Paul was once again earning his keep.

########################################

With the infection coming under control, Paul's shoulder continued to heal and his ability to work increased. Days melted into weeks and their lives fell into a routine of collecting food and keeping the camp fire going at all times. Fox had determined that the preservation of matches was foremost. Both he and Wylie carried a supply of matches in the event they might see a boat or plane and would need to start one of the various signal fires.

The three men had worked out somewhat of a solution to their shaving needs, trimming beards with the scissors from the medical kit. Fox and Wylie would assist each other and Wylie volunteered to help Paul as Fox would not give Scott or Paul any instrument he considered could be used as a weapon. The job always looked a bit rough, but it served the purpose. Scott was beginning to show the shadow of a moustache, but as yet it had not become necessary that he do anything to attempt to keep it under control.

The routine of life on this lost island was once again approaching a crisis. The reachable fruit supply was rapidly being depleted as the bananas and papayas did not ripen as rapidly as they were being consumed. Another carbohydrate food source was needed.

Fox and Wylie left the camp together in a general search of the island for additional sources of fruit and had been gone for over an hour.

Paul's and Scott's heads jumped up as they heard a gunshot in the distance. They looked at each other.

Scott: Wha'd'ya think Dad?

Paul: I don't know.

Twenty minutes later Fox and Wylie walked back to the beach. Paul noticed they were both empty handed. Now he was really curious about the gunshot, but did not have to wait long for the answer as they walked into camp.

Wylie: I told you not to shoot the coconut. I told you it would only explode into bits.

Fox: Shut up smarty. I had to try something. I can't climb those trees and neither can you. If we could get to the nuts, some of our food problems would be over.

Paul: (speaking timidly) Mr. Fox?

Fox: (irritation in voice) Yeah, what do _you_ want?

Paul: I'm sorry, but I heard. I think if you'll let me, I can climb those trees and get the fruit.

Fox: Oh? How?

Paul: The way the Polynesians do. I saw it once on TV. I think I can do it the way they do, if you'll let me.

Fox: Polynesians, huh. (voice rising with anger) You just want me to release you is what you want. You can just forget it Forrester. Those chains are gonna _stay_on you. I _promise _you that!

Paul: I want to help. I didn't ask you to remove the chains. In fact, I need the leg chain to climb the trees. Please let me help.

Wylie: Why not let him try sir? We have to find more things to eat or we'll all die. Maybe he can get the coconuts. We've got nothing to lose.

Fox let out a sigh of disgust, but agreed to let Forrester try it. Wylie removed Paul from the chain around the tree. He then relocked the chain, leaving Scott. Paul stood up and Fox motioned for him to move back in the direction from which they had just come.

Paul: What about my son?

Fox: He stays here. I don't want to have to watch him. Now get moving.

Paul looked back at his son with a 'sorry Scott' look and the three of them started back into the jungle. The trip back to the coconut grove was slower because of Paul's restraints, but they made it in less than half an hour. Fox looked at the trees and then at Paul.

Fox: Okay, Forrester. Let's see you climb that.

Paul sat on the ground instead.

Paul: First I need two things.

Fox: What?

Paul: A shoelace will do.

Wylie sat down and undid one of his shoes and gave the lace to Paul. They watched as Paul tied two links of the chain about eight inches apart, together, shortening the width considerably. Next, Paul took off his shoes and socks, stood up, then held his hands out to Fox.

Paul: I do need to have you remove these to climb the tree. I have to hold on.

Fox gritted his teeth, but complied and removed the handcuffs.

Fox: As soon as you get down, that's providing you ever get up, these are going right back on. You understand?

Paul: Yes.

Paul twisted around, wrapped his arms around the tree and brought his chained legs up. The chain created a tension and Paul's feet gripped the sides of the slightly leaning tree trunk perfectly. He started to inch his way up. It was about sixty feet up to the top of some of the taller trees, but Paul had chosen the shortest one he could find with fruit on it.

Wylie: Look sir, it's working! He's doing it!

Fox and Wylie watched in astonishment as Paul slowly made his way up. It took him the better part of five minutes to reach the top and he sent the round fruit plummeting down one by one. He started down again. Wylie gave Paul a hand on his dismount from the tree and Fox was promptly there with the handcuffs.

Fox noticed a look of displeasure on Wylie's face. To Wylie, the joy of having something more to eat had been lessened. Fox stepped back.

Fox: Okay, so you did it. Now you and Wylie can carry them back to camp.

Paul untied the shoelace from the chain and gave it back to Wylie. Wylie replaced the shoelace while Paul sat down and put his own shoes and socks on again. Then Wylie gathered the coconuts, evenly distributing them between Paul and himself and they headed home. Wylie noticed that Paul seemed to be hurting again. Wylie asked if the shoulder was bothering him.

Paul: Yes, a little. It'll be alright.

Wylie: Maybe not. Let me see.

Wylie checked Paul's wounds and did not see any bleeding or discharge.

Wylie: You probably stressed the muscles too much. You shouldn't have tried to climb. It's too soon. (with some worry) If you tear those muscles ...

Paul: We need the food.

Fox: Enough chit chat! Let's get back. Forrester can rest his shoulder then.

They headed home with a food supply to last a few days.

The next problem was how to open the things without spilling all the nutritious milk they contained. They ended up smashing one with the ax, but lost all the milk. Still they had the 'meat' to eat and everyone got a share.

Paul: (to Scott, softly) This tastes good.

Fox: What are you whispering?

Paul: (out loud) I said it tastes good.

Wylie: You've never had a coconut before?

Paul: No, I like it.

Fox grunted and Wylie smiled at Paul's answer. Wylie, suddenly remembering what Forrester was, was fascinated and he wondered how many other common things he'd never tried before. It did not take very long before they realized that to save the milk from the coconuts they had to penetrate the soft spots on the end and coconut milk became a much relished beverage.

########################################

And so the routine continued. Days turned into weeks and weeks into months. They were beginning their fifth month of isolation on this island. Not one plane had passed close enough for them to be sure of what they thought they saw. A couple of times they thought they saw a high flying jet go over, but by the time the signal fire was lit, they were unsure if they had actually seen a plane at all. Not one boat had been seen by anyone. Most of the signal fire piles that they had made when they first arrived had never been lit. It was like the island was not on any navigational maps.

At times Fox would stand on the beach for long periods of time looking towards the west, trying to see anything in the sky or on the horizon, but then would return to camp and sit for equally long periods of time in silence. At other times when Paul and Scott were securely fastened to their tree, he would sit at the edge of the camp, holding his head in his hands, softly moaning and gently rocking himself.

Scott had fallen into his own routine now and did not offer to give Fox any more trouble since his father had been shot for his escape attempt. Scott, secretly to his father, had accused Fox of being a slave driver and in the broadest terms, he was correct. He had also referred to Fox once as using Gestapo tactics. Paul tried to question Scott on the expression, but Scott apparently did not want to explain and Paul dropped it. Scott never used the expression again.

Wylie spent a good part of his day fishing at different spots around the island and his daily catch was supplying the major portion of the protein for their diet. Fox would take both Paul and Scott when firewood was to be gathered and would take one of them at a time if the work he had in mind was food gathering. With the addition of the coconuts to their diet they could give the other fruit the time necessary to ripen.

Paul's shoulder was pretty well healed now and he had regained almost complete use of it as long as he didn't try to lift things that were too heavy. Paul felt that Fox had been considerate, to a certain extent, because Fox felt that a cripple was of no use to him.

Today Fox had taken Scott to the other side of the island to look for bananas and papaya which seemed to grow better there. Fox usually told Scott exactly where he wanted him to search and kept an eagle eye on him, but since he had experienced no further difficulty with Scott since he had shot his father, he was sitting on a log and Scott was foraging without his direction.

Fox was looking out toward the east across the water when he thought he saw something on the horizon. Fox wanted to immediately head for the nearest signal fire that had been prepared months before, but then noticed that Scott was gone.

Scott had wandered out of sight and was pushing his way through some dense undergrowth trying to reach a large bunch of bananas when Fox called out to him.

Fox: Scott! Where are you? (mumbling) Damn kid. Now where did he go? Probably took off again. Drop your guard for one minute and you get nothing but trouble.

Fox made a decision and ran for the signal fire to set it off in case it was a boat that he had seen in the distance.

Meanwhile Scott came out into the open carrying an arm load of the bananas and noticed that Fox was gone. He hadn't heard Fox call to him to come back and didn't know where to go, so he moved into the shade of some nearby trees to wait. Suddenly he saw Fox coming down the hill toward him yelling and obviously very angry. Fox hadn't spotted him standing under the tree, so Scott just ducked down and stayed there quietly, afraid of Fox's wrath.

Fox ran right by him toward the beach. He looked up and down the beach and then turned back toward the brushy shoreline. Suddenly he stopped and sank down onto the sand on his knees, once again holding his head and yelled "No ... not now, please not again ..." Scott watched him from the cover of the trees and knew that he should show himself and go to Fox, but the look on the FSA agent's face also told him that he might be in danger because Fox appeared to him to be very angry. Once again Scott's fear overcame his common sense and he hid, leaving the bananas lying beside the tree.

In a little while Fox's headache began to subside somewhat and he pulled out his gun and started to search the immediate area for Scott, hoping that he hadn't gone too far away.

Scott hoped that Fox wouldn't find him and that he could merely return to camp ahead of Fox and simply tell him that he'd gotten lost, but his luck did not hold out and Fox almost walked directly into his hiding place. Scott knew he was going to be discovered any second, so he picked up the bananas and stood up, shaking in fear at being found. He could see that Fox was still very angry.

Fox: (yelling) What are you trying to do? Run away again?

Scott: No Mr. Fox. I couldn't find you.

Fox: Don't lie to me you little troublemaker! I should have shot both of you in the beginning! It would have saved me all this trouble!

Scott: But Mr. Fox, I ...

Fox: Don't you give me any of your lip! You were trying to run off again, weren't you? ... Confess you little ... alien.

Scott: No, I ...

Fox: Get up the hill to that fire, **NOW!**

Out of fear, Scott dropped the bananas and following Fox's directions, started up the hill. Fox then looked up the hill at what was supposed to be a signal fire and saw nothing burning. He turned once again toward the ocean and whatever he had seen, or thought he had seen, had vanished. He turned back to follow after Scott. He was now sure that he had seen a ship and it was Scott's fault that the signal fire did not burn because he had to hurry in its setting and then leave it to go look for Scott.

When they got to the signal fire Fox made a last desperate attempt to set it off, but in his mind he knew it was far too late. The only ship sighted in the last months was now gone. He turned his anger toward Scott, pushing him roughly in the direction of the camp, threatening him all the way back. He picked a long willowy shoot off one of the trees along the way.

########################################

Wylie was out fishing and Paul, who was still chained to the tree weaving simple baskets and sleeping mats from pandanus leaves and palm fronds, heard Fox and Scott coming for quite a distance and recognized the anger once again in Fox's voice. When they finally came into view, Paul's heart was pounding in fear for his son.

Fox pushed Scott over to the other tree once again, pushed him down to his knees and handcuffed him again around the tree.

Fox: Why did you try it again? Just to aggravate me?

Scott: Mr. Fox, I didn't ...

Fox: (yelling) You ruined the first chance I've seen in months at the possibility of rescue from this hell hole!

Scott: But ...

Fox pulled the back of Scott's shirt up, exposing his bare back.

Paul: (pleading) Please don't hurt my son! He won't try to run away again! Please!

Fox: I've had enough of this! (to Scott) This time you're going to know more than just a lost meal. This time you're gonna hurt!

Paul: (pleading louder) No! Please! If you have to hurt someone, then hurt me, but please don't hurt my son!

Fox looked at Scott and then at Paul, and a plan began to form in his mind that might solve all the problems and irritations that he'd had to put up with because of Scott.

Fox: (slowly and deliberately after taking a deep breath) I think you're right Forrester. (to Scott) Your father has asked to take your punishment for you and (with a sly smile) that's just what he's going to get!

Scott: (alarmed) NO!

Fox: This is the fourth time you've attempted to escape. I won't tolerate it. I've had enough!

Scott: (yelling) I didn't try to escape! I didn't!

Fox: (spoken with contempt) I'm going to make sure you don't. You see, from now on, every time you try to escape or try in any way to test my authority, I'm not going to punish you, I'm going to punish your father!

Scott: No! I won't do anything! I promise! Please don't hit him!

Fox walked over to Paul with the switch at the ready. Paul cringed and ducked his head between his arms as he felt the first hard blow land across his bare back. Fox hit Paul several times.

Scott: No! Stop it! Don't hurt him! He didn't do anything! Stop! (now crying openly) Stop it! Please stop it ... (catching his breath) Okay, you win! I promise I'll do whatever you want! Please! ... (screaming now) STOP IT! DAD!

Fox landed two more blows to Paul's back before he stopped. He had what he wanted from the boy. He felt assured that Scott would not try to escape or test his authority again.

Fox looked at Paul's back and felt a knot in his stomach. There were ugly red welts covering it and small traces of blood where the switch had cut. He really hadn't intended to do this, but he had learned one thing: now he knew how to maintain control over these prisoners. Scott had been testing him periodically, but now that would surely stop.

Wylie had come back to the camp with an arm load of fruit and immediately knew something was wrong. Scott was handcuffed separately from his father. He was crying and looking at his father. Then he saw Forrester lying face down, breathing shakily. He saw the marks on Paul's back and his mouth dropped open in horror and he choked back a lump in his throat. He dropped the fruit and went to Fox, standing beside the lean-to with the switch still in his hand.

Wylie: Sir! What's going on? What did you do? Did you _whip_Forrester?

Fox: Yes, I did.

Wylie: For God's sake, why? What did he do?

Fox: (quietly) Nothing.

Wylie: Then why did you beat him?

Fox: (once again in full control) The boy tried to escape again. He can't keep trying to do that and get away with it. He had to be punished.

Wylie: But you didn't punish Scott!

Fox: I think I accomplished what I wanted to by punishing Forrester. You'll see. The boy won't give me any further trouble.

Wylie: But you can't physically abuse them! They'll have you up on charges when they find out!

Fox: Possibly, but I have the right to administer punishment for an escape attempt.

Wylie: But Forrester didn't try to escape.

Fox: Forrester asked to take his son's punishment. What would you have me do, nothing? This was Scott's fourth escape attempt. Even his father's injury wasn't enough for him! The measures I took were justified, you'll see.

Wylie: But you don't have the right to physically abuse them!

Fox: Look, I took what I saw as appropriate action.

Wylie: (with hatred) Yes sir! But was it justified? After all, where was Scott going to escape to?

Scott: (overhearing and angry) But I didn't Mr. Wylie! HE LEFT ME!

They both looked at Scott, then Wylie looked again at Fox.

Fox: No.

Scott: Yes you did!

Fox looked at Scott in anger and raised the switch, angrily ready to whip him too. No one spoke for many seconds.

Wylie: Alright, let's hear both sides. You start sir.

Scott began to protest, but ceased when Wylie's look reassured him he would get a fair chance to tell his side.

Fox: (continuing) ... and when I looked, the kid was gone. I called and he didn't answer. I couldn't let the chance at rescue slide by, so I went to light the signal fire. We could've been rescued. I did it fast and went back to try and find the kid. I found the brat hiding behind a tree. He was trying to escape I tell you. Anyway, the signal fire didn't light. If I wouldn't have had to go find him before he got away I'd've had time to set it properly. It's all his fault!

Wylie: Okay, Scott. Your turn.

Fox: You gonna trust what that damn kid tells you?

Wylie: (angrily) You've had your say, now I want to hear his! Go ahead Scott. Tell me what happened.

Scott: I didn't try to escape, honest. I was picking some bananas. When I had as many as I could carry I came back to where he had been sitting, but when I got there, he was gone. I put down the bananas and sat down under a tree to wait for him to come back. The next thing I saw was him coming down the hill from the signal fire, you know the one we built on the other side of the island, and he was shouting about me giving him trouble, but I didn't.

Wylie: What did he say to you?

Scott: He looked so mad that I was afraid to try to talk to him, so I hid. I figured it would be better if I just waited until he disappeared and then I could go back to camp, and when he came in, I could tell him I got lost, but he just happened to find me and accused me of trying to run away. If I wanted to run away, I sure could have gotten further than under that tree. ... Then his fire didn't burn and he blamed me for that too. I didn't do anything but get scared. ... He left me!

Wylie: Didn't you tell him?

Scott: I tried but he wouldn't listen. I never heard him call me, I swear I didn't! If I did, I would've come back.

Wylie: Alright Scott. (to Fox) I think I see the problem and I think you might have made a mistake sir, a very big mistake.

Fox suddenly remembered that Scott was holding onto a large bunch of bananas when he found him under the tree and realized now that he was wrong. He didn't like admitting it, but this time though, he was forced to. He went to Paul's side and knelt down beside him.

Fox: (quietly) Forrester ... uh ... I'm sorry. I thought Scott ... I'm sorry.

Paul nodded his head. In a rare moment of what could have passed for compassion, Fox took some water from the jerry can and filled the helmet, then took Paul's shirt, which Paul had not worn since he'd been shot, wet it, wrung out the excess water and placed the cool cloth over Paul's sore back as Wylie and Scott watched. He stood up.

Fox: (to Wylie, his voice wavering) I gotta be alone. ... Excuse me.

Fox walked off to the beach and sat down. The guilt washed over him. _This time there's no denying it. I __**was**__ wrong. I've beaten a prisoner without justifiable cause. Hell, beating a prisoner isn't justifiable under any circumstances_, he thought. He sat there alone in silence.

Wylie went over to Paul and asked how he was.

Paul: I'm alright.

Wylie gently removed the cloth and touched one of the red welts on Paul's back. Paul flinched.

Wylie: I'm sorry! (whispering) He had no right to whip you! I'll see to it that he never does that to you again.

Paul: I'm alright, really. It hurts right now, but that'll go away soon. Please, just leave things alone.

Wylie soaked and wrung out the cloth again and gently replaced it on Paul's back.

Fox had come back over to where they were talking and glanced again at Paul.

Fox: (apologetically, with guilt) Let me do that.

Wylie gave him an icy look.

Fox: Don't you have some fish to catch, Wylie?

Wylie walked off toward the beach angrily. He was perplexed at Fox's behavior. _He's not a cruel man._ Wylie knew that, after all he had worked with Fox for a number of years and sometimes thought he understood him. _He has somewhat of a temper and lacks patience, but cruel? What's happened to change him? Nothing can justify using physical violence against prisoners and he knows that. What was he doing? Is he ill?_

Fox continued to look after Paul. Paul didn't say anything to him, but let him soothe his conscience. Scott, on the other hand, eyed Fox with all of the fury and anger that was building up inside. Paul could see it in his son's face, but made no comment, preferring to deal with it when they were alone.

That evening after a very quiet supper, when they were alone once again and sure that Fox or Wylie could not overhear, Scott told his father that there was more to the story, more that he hadn't wanted Wylie to hear.

Paul: Tell me.

Scott: Mr. Fox told me ... he told me he wished that he had killed both of us.

Paul: He said that?

Scott: Yeah, and I think he really meant it.

Paul: Perhaps he didn't really mean it the way it sounded.

Scott: No Dad. He meant it. But Dad, what's with Fox anyway? First he shot you, then he whipped you, and now he's trying to act like a mother to you. I don't get it.

Paul: I think he is sorry that he hit me. He realizes that he made a mistake and he's trying to make it up to me. He's trying to soothe his conscience and asking me to forgive him, but I think he just can't make himself say the words.

Scott: Well he can go screw himself! I wouldn't forgive him if he were the last person on Earth.

Paul: Perhaps he doesn't realize it himself. What I felt when he beat me was physical pain. What Mr. Fox is feeling now is emotional pain. He was wrong and he knows it. It's very different.

Scott: _Are_ you going to forgive him?

Paul didn't want to answer his question. He knew Scott was too angry right now to understand his answer. He also had never told Scott that George Fox had told him the exact same thing, that he wanted to kill him, and that his dedication to his job was the only thing preventing him from doing it. Paul vowed if at all possible, that Scott would never learn of the conversation that day as he lay, with the fever, in Fox's arms in the water.

Paul: We'll talk about it again. (once again deep in thought) There's something about Fox. ... something I still don't understand.

Scott: I don't care to understand him!

Paul: (long pause then forcefully) Scott, right now, more than ever before, I think it's very important to try not to do anything to antagonize him. I think deep down inside he's very dangerous. Do what he tells you to do. No matter how he treats you or me, just take it. Do you understand? Don't question his authority. Maybe he'll remember this mistake and maybe he won't. Remember what he told you. If he thinks you're giving him any trouble, I'll take the beating. I think we've both had enough pain already.

Scott: Okay, I promise. I won't try to do anything to antagonize him, but it's gonna be like walkin' on eggs. I hate that man.

Paul: You already did promise, you promised him. ... And Scott, you shouldn't hate anyone.

Scott: Dad, I can't help it.

Paul: I think you can. In fact I know you can.

Scott: I'm sorry Dad.

Paul: In this instance, you don't have to be sorry. Right now I'm the one who should be sorry.

Scott: (a questioning look on his face) You? Sorry? For what?

Paul: For judging you before I knew the facts. I had assumed, when he dragged you back that you had tried to run away again. I had no right to do that. (looking deeply into Scott's eyes) I'm proud of you Scott.

Scott: (smiling) Thanks Dad.

Paul: I think it's time to go to sleep now. ... Goodnight Scott.

Scott: Goodnight Dad.

That night Fox experienced a horrible disturbing nightmare. As he drifted off to sleep the vision began. There, standing on something very bright with small black spots which he could not identify, was the figure of a man against a pitch black background. The man was standing with his back to him and his head bowed. He watched the figure as if he had no will of his own and as he moved closer he could see the man was tall with dark hair and wearing ragged jeans. He looked closely and his heart began pounding. There were shackles on his legs, red hot marks on his back and blood running from a point on his left shoulder. The figure slowly rotated to face him seemingly without moving, almost as if positioned on an invisible revolving pedestal. He could not look away. There was blood running down his chest from a point on the right shoulder now, and he could see there were handcuffs on his wrists. As the figure slowly lifted his head and looked directly at him, he recognized the face of Paul Forrester. Forrester then slowly raised his arms and extended his hands toward him, speaking softly. "Let me go. I must be free." The voice grew louder as he spoke again, asking but at the same time demanding, "Give me back my freedom."

Fox began to mumble in his sleep, his breathing becoming heavier and erratic. He answered the vision, "NO! Never Forrester! Never!"

Fox awoke suddenly and sat upright, breathing hard and sweating. He looked at the tree where his prisoners were chained for the night. There was Forrester, peacefully sleeping with his son. He tried to dismiss the vision from his mind but could not. He looked back at Forrester and whispering, he spoke to Forrester, though he knew he could not hear him.

Fox: Never Forrester. I'll never let you go.

Wylie woke up at Fox's mumbling and hearing him whisper to Forrester, also whispered.

Wylie: Are you alright sir?

Fox: What? Huh, oh yes. I'm alright. Go back to sleep.

Wylie: You sure?

Fox: Yeah. I just had a bad dream is all.

Fox lay back down and stared at Forrester.

Fox: Goodnight Wylie.

Wylie: Goodnight sir.

Both men drifted back to sleep until morning light.

########################################

Over the next couple weeks Fox showed more consideration to Paul and Scott than he had ever shown since they had become marooned on the island, but that was fading away. Fox's nightmare recurred each night as he drifted off to sleep and he began trying to stay awake later and later in an attempt to avoid the vision. His headaches continued to get worse and he was becoming more and more like the unpleasant little agent that Scott had grown to despise over the past couple years.

Each night Fox's fear and distrust of the creature he had chained up began to build. Tonight was no exception. He awoke again from his nightmare and spoke in his thoughts to Paul, _Stop it. Stop doing this to me. I know you're doing this to me! Somehow, you're doing this to me!_

########################################

Now that Paul's shoulder was well healed, he and Scott were forced to do all the hard and heavy physical work, though Wylie was often required by Fox to help. More often than not, Wylie was delegated to guard duty but voluntarily pitched in to help when Fox wasn't around.

Fox never physically abused them again, but his constant threatening attitude had quite literally worn down their spirit. Paul appeared to be a beaten man and Scott moved like a robot. Through all of this mistreatment however, Paul constantly reminded Scott not to retaliate.

Paul thought many times that Fox was actually deriving pleasure from working them to the point of physical exhaustion. Today was proving to be one of those days. The old water well had collapsed and Paul was digging a new one some distance back from the shore, while Wylie and Scott once again disposed of the dirt. He had been digging for three straight hours in the hot sun without a stop. His muscles ached. He stood momentarily against the wall of the well, breathing hard. The sun and humidity were taking their toll.

Fox: Keep digging Forrester.

Wylie: He's tired Mr. Fox. Let 'im have a rest.

Paul: Five minutes and a drink of water, please ... that's all I ask.

Fox: Very well. (hands Wylie the cup to get Paul some water out of the jerry can but speaks to Paul) This is all you get until you finish, Forrester. There's none to spare.

Paul: (reaching for the cup Wylie held out to him) Thank you.

Paul drank the meager amount quickly and handed the empty cup back to Wylie, then gratefully sat down in the well. Barely five minutes had passed when Fox ordered Paul back to work.

Wylie had had enough of watching Fox treat Forrester like this. With great courage, Wylie began to give Fox a piece of his mind.

Wylie: That's it Mr. Fox! That's enough!

Fox: (stunned) What's the matter with you?

Wylie: What's the matter? I'll tell you what's the matter! I've had enough of watching you treat them, and especially him (pointing to Paul) like some kind of draft animal to be worked to death! He's not a horse! Even a horse gets to rest! He's done enough work for today!

Fox: If he doesn't keep at it, it won't get done.

Wylie: Tomorrow's another day. We have plenty of time. It's too hot for anyone to be working today!

Fox: Maybe so, but we have less than a quarter of a can of water left. It won't last forever. We need fresh drinking water NOW! What's gotten into you?

Wylie: I'm tired of watching you work him until he begs you for a rest. And what rest you do give him is hardly enough to let him catch his breath before you're after him again! Y'know, I think you actually ENJOY making him BEG!

Fox: I don't hear Forrester complaining.

Wylie: How can he? Even if he did, would you listen?

Fox: (with authority) Someone has to gather the food and dig the well. If they don't, we'll have to or we won't survive.

Wylie: What about you? What excludes you from doing something? What's this WE crap? I've never seen you lift one finger to help with anything! All you do is sit there with your gun and give orders to them ... and ME! They do all the hard work, but they still sleep out in the open using leaves for cover while we get the shelter and blankets. Their food ration is less than equal and you chain them to a tree every night like wild animals!

Fox: They're still prisoners, or have you forgotten? Someone has to be in charge. That someone is me. Someone also has to guard them while they work and precautions have to be taken at night to see that they don't escape to try to kill us.

Wylie: Escape? Escape to where? This is an island sir! Where are they going to escape to? And Scott hasn't tried to run away again since you shot Forrester, not to mention that misunderstanding awhile back. As for killing us, I doubt that Forrester would try to murder us. It's just not in him. Personally, if it were me in his place, I'd've tried either or both long before now. He hasn't.

Fox: I won't take the risk. There's always a chance he could.

Wylie: I thought as much. You know what you are Mr. Fox? You're a sadist! I think you actually enjoy hurting them!

Fox was obviously getting quite agitated over this exchange and had to put his hands up to his head a couple of times during the conversation. Paul began to wonder why every time Fox became upset, he had to hold on to his head.

Scott was inwardly quite delighted with this one-on-one rebellion and wanted to add his own 'two cents worth', but Paul with a sharp and subtle negative shake of his head and look in his eyes, told him not to interfere. Paul was however, also quietly impressed with Wylie's logic.

Wylie reached out a hand to Paul.

Wylie: C'mon, let me give you a hand up. You've worked long enough today.

Fox: Leave him where he is! Get back to work Forrester.

Wylie: No Mr. Fox! C'mon Forrester, give me your hand.

Paul: (quietly) I can keep digging, really.

Fox: See, he _wants_ to work! Leave him where he is.

Wylie: No, you see! He's exhausted. He's just too browbeaten to tell you. C'mon Forrester.

Fox: (getting nauseous) Wylie, I'm warning you! Don't cross me or I'll have you up for insubordination!

Wylie looked at Fox and suddenly found himself on the wrong end of Fox's wrath ... and his gun.

Wylie: Are you gonna shoot me?

Fox: That depends.

Wylie: On what?

Fox: You. Now leave him there and let him get back to work.

Wylie reached again for Paul and quietly spoke to him.

Wylie: C'mon, it's alright. It's a bluff. He wouldn't shoot.

Paul hesitated, then reached his hands out to Wylie. They heard a gunshot and Wylie's arm recoiled back and he let out a yelp of pain. The wound was just a graze, but it hurt. Paul and Scott looked first at Wylie, then at Fox in horror. Wylie stood facing Fox, a shocked expression on his face.

Wylie: You shot me. You actually shot me!

Fox: I warned you, don't cross me. It was just a warning. I could've killed you if I wanted to. Don't try me.

Wylie: You're sick! You really are sick!

Wylie turned with that, clutching his wounded arm and ran in the direction of the crash site before Fox could shoot him again. Fox once again had his hands up to the sides of his head, then lowered one to once again level his pistol at Paul and Scott.

Fox: Okay, break's over. Start digging. We have to finish this well.

Paul: (quietly) You mean **we** have to finish it.

Paul went back to digging and Scott nervously helped with the dirt. While Paul dug, he consciously re-evaluated Fox's mental state. Fox had become a very dangerous man. Some kind of pain? Maybe. It was imperative for Paul to tell Scott, now more than ever, to obey Fox. He didn't want Scott risking his life.

Paul and Scott worked until sunset when Fox called it a day for them. The well still wasn't finished and that irritated Fox even more. He roughly herded them back to camp, looking occasionally over his shoulder for Wylie, Wylie was now just one more problem he had to deal with. _Why did Wylie have to back me up against a wall; question my authority?_, he thought. They stopped at the latrine. Fox waited for Paul to finish his personal business as Scott had just done. Paul turned around after zipping up his pants and saw what looked like anger in Fox's face, directed at him.

Fox: Okay Forrester, Scott, let's go.

Paul hesitated, lost in momentary thought, trying to fathom what it was that was going on with Fox. When Paul did not respond to his command immediately, Fox took the three foot long switch he carried with him all the time now, the same one he used to beat Paul before, and viciously swung it at Paul, striking him on his left arm just above the elbow.

Paul: (cries out) Aahh!

Scott: Dad!

Fox: Watch it Scott! I said MOVE! ... NOW!

Paul glared back at Fox and started towards camp trying to clutch his hurting arm as best he could with handcuffs on. Scott clung to his father in fear that Fox would hit him next, and protectively tried to shield his father against further injury.

Wylie reached the wreck and found something to tie around his bleeding arm. He lay down in the helicopter.

Wylie: (to himself aloud) He's crazy! He's finally gone over the edge! I wasn't wrong to protest their case, was I? No! God ... what'll he do to them now that I'm not there? And what if they do protest?

He kept thinking of what Fox could do. He finally fell asleep, but to a troubling dream. His dream progressed into a horrible nightmare during the night as he dreamed that Fox was not only beating Forrester, but also Scott, over and over, with a crazed look in his eyes. He awoke suddenly with the dream still vivid in his mind, shaking all over.

Wylie: NO! (breathing hard then calming down) Oh God! What a dream! (then to himself) I wonder if he would resort to physical abuse again? ... Or murder! (out loud again) I've got to help them. I've got to! He might kill them! Why Mr. Fox? What's happened to you?

The following morning Fox awakened Paul and Scott before sunrise. Fox unchained Scott and took him off into the jungle. After the events of the day before, Paul was worried about Scott's well being. _Where did Fox take him? What was he going to do with him?_ Paul pulled hard at the chain that bound him to the tree, but knew the futility of the act even before he started.

About half an hour later Fox and Scott walked back into camp. Scott was carrying a large arm load of firewood and held it until Fox told him where to drop it on the ground. Paul gave a sigh of relief as soon as he saw them returning, but tried to conceal the expression from his face. He was inwardly relieved to see that Scott was being very respectful and obeying Fox's wishes without question.

Fox then walked over and unlocked Paul from the chain.

Fox: Time to rise and shine Forrester. Both of you have a well to finish digging.

Paul started walking, Scott followed. Paul wiped the sleep from his eyes. They stopped at the latrine first. Finishing that, Fox prodded them all the way to the well site. The sun was just barely up over the horizon when Paul started digging and Scott continued to remove the dirt. Paul worked non-stop and dared not ask for a break or a drink of water after yesterday's incident. They kept up the pace in the hot sun throughout the morning. By noon, Paul had struck water. The final digging down into the water continued until there was enough water in the well to submerge the helmet easily. It was now early afternoon. Wylie had been watching them out of sight all morning.

Fox: Okay, that's good. You can fill the water can later when the water clears. Now you two can rest. Let's go back to camp.

They all went back to the camp and Fox, once again, secured Paul and Scott to the tree. Fox threw them some coconut, some nuts and berries and then gave them some water in part of a coconut shell.

Fox then walked off into the jungle. Why, Paul didn't know and didn't care. He and Scott quickly ate the meager amount of food.

Wylie had remained out of sight, but Paul sensed he was there.

Paul: (softly) Wylie's watching us.

Scott: Where? I don't see him.

Paul: Back there. (nods in general direction)

Scott: Why doesn't he come out? Fox is gone.

Paul: Maybe he's afraid Fox will come back and discover him here. I don't want to think of what would happen if they met face to face again.

Scott: Wylie's alright! He stuck his neck out for us.

Paul: Yes, he did, and got shot in the process. I hope he's alright. I think Mr. Fox is ill. He needs help.

Scott: (bitterly) He needs more than help, and I'd like to give it to him.

Paul let the remark slide by without answering. He knew by this time exactly what Scott meant.

Fox came back with some more food and they did nothing more for the rest of the day, except to refill the water can. It was their reward for finishing the well, Paul guessed, and both he and Scott were grateful. Every muscle in their bodies ached. Wylie had disappeared again.

########################################

Three more days passed, spent mostly in searching for enough to eat. Wylie was no longer with them and he had been the provider of fish, a staple in their diet. They were all getting quite hungry again as Fox proved he was not a fisherman and their supply of fruit on hand was running low.

It was morning again and Fox released Paul from the tree, but left Scott still chained. Whatever Fox had in mind, Scott was not coming this time. Scott got alarmed as they got ready to leave without him. He didn't like to be separated from his father since Fox's and Wylie's argument.

Fox sent Paul ahead of him in the direction of the helicopter wreck. It was his plan to have Paul try to find more food in the rocky cliffs beyond the crash site which they had not explored much up to now. Fox figured it was easier to leave Scott at the camp then to have to watch him and Forrester near the jungle and the lava cliffs.

Fox was herding Paul ahead of him up an extremely narrow inclined lava ridge. Paul moved along the rough ground as fast as his manacled legs would allow. He temporarily lost his footing once when his leg chain caught on a rock in the rough path and then he slowed down.

Fox: Faster.

The time had come. Fox and he were alone now and a considerable distance from the camp so Scott was safe. Paul decided it was at long last, time to take a dangerous chance and confront Fox head on. He stopped and turned to face him.

Paul: No Mr. Fox.

Fox stopped as quickly as Paul, his eyes wide and gun at the ready.

Fox: Watch it Forrester.

Paul: Mr. Fox, why won't you talk to me? Why are you so afraid of me? I won't hurt you.

Fox: You can ask me that after you attacked me! No, I'm not afraid of you, and no, you won't hurt me as long as those chains stay on and I'm in control. ... And they _will_ stay on, believe me!

Paul: I think you are afraid of me and I wouldn't hurt you even if you took the chains off. I wouldn't hurt anyone and I never attacked you. I only wanted to prevent you from killing my son.

Fox: Oh no Forrester! That soft talk won't work with me! Not an attack ... bull; it was a deliberate attack! For years I've told those fools in Washington that you were a dangerous threat and you proved it.

Fox felt a tightening in his neck muscles. _It's finally going to reveal itself_, he thought. But then his headache came back again like a bolt of lightning. _No, not again_, he thought, _not now_. He began to feel nauseous and dizzy. He held both hands to his head and let out a soft cry. Paul took a step towards Fox, but he recovered quickly and leveled the gun at him.

Fox: Stop! Don't you take another step.

Paul: Mr. Fox. Something is wrong with you. Let me try to help you. I might be able to help you if you allow me to touch you.

Fox: Stay where you are! I _won't_ let you touch me, you ... you alien (Fox paused) ...

Paul: ... thing? Is that what you want to say?

Fox: Yes! ... thing. Now get moving.

They started to move forward again when another wave of dizziness came over Fox and he lost his balance, staggering a few steps before regaining his equilibrium.

Paul: (turning and trying to approach again) Mr. Fox please, let me help you. Believe me, I won't harm you.

Fox: (fighting back the pain and once again leveling his gun at Paul) Keep moving Forrester.

They moved on again. Paul walking very slowly in the lead, turning slightly from side to side, watching over his shoulder as Fox staggered behind him.

Paul: Mr. Fox. We'd better get off this ledge. You can't walk like this, you'll fall.

Fox finally stopped.

Fox: Look around for something edible, and remember, I'm watching you. Don't try anything.

Fox sat down on a lava outcropping steadying himself. Paul moved from level to level, aware that there was nothing in these rocks that he would find edible, but keeping an eye on Fox sitting with his head in his hands, his position reflecting what appeared to be extreme pain that he was suffering.

In a short while Fox recovered again and called Paul back, motioning for him to proceed further along a flat portion of the ledge which led out onto a very steep and lava rock strewn slope. Suddenly Fox staggered sideways, dropping the gun as he grabbed for his aching head. Paul heard him cry out and turned just in time to see him step off the flat ledge and out onto the slope. His feet slipped out from under him and he started to slide down.

In a split second, Paul dove flat down onto his stomach trying to catch him by whatever he could get a hold of before Fox could slide out of reach and topple to what have most likely have been his death. The fingers of his right hand contacted the flesh of one of Fox's arms, but the momentum of Fox's slide allowed him to keep slipping through Paul's grasp until he finally got a firm hold of his wrist. Paul's body slammed to the ground and he began sliding after Fox until his forward motion was stopped by a protruding outcrop of rock that caught his leg chain. Paul felt the sharp lava rocks scraping his exposed body until the chain finally tethered him in place. Fox was hanging down the steepest part of the slope, stopped from toppling down onto the rocks only by Paul's crushing grip.

Paul: Mr. Fox, can you hear me?

Fox did not respond, the pain was so great.

Paul: Mr. Fox?

Fox's pain finally subsided enough for him to realize what had happened and that the alien was holding onto him and talking.

Paul: Mr. Fox! Take your other hand and grab hold of something! You can do it! I can't hold you like this for much longer.

It seemed like an eternity to Paul before Fox responded to his request. Then with painstaking effort Fox reached and grabbed the handcuff chain. Paul released his hold on his wrist and Fox began to pull himself up slowly, first grabbing higher up Paul's arms, then reaching for his belt and leaning back to allow his feet to get some purchase on the slope. With a secure grip and the roughness of the lava rock, it was relatively easy for him to get back to the safety of the ledge they had been following. Fox then sat down and was shaking all over, apparently ignoring the fact that his rescuer was still hanging down the rough slope tethered only by his legs.

As Fox sat there, Paul, meanwhile managed to work himself back up onto the ledge a few feet away and once again was shuffling toward Fox, but as he approached, Fox looked around and quickly spotted the fallen pistol he'd dropped as he fell. He retrieved it and once more nervously pointed the gun at Paul as he moved himself away from that which he feared the most.

Fox: Don't move.

Paul: Please, I know you're in pain. I could feel it when I held you. I can help you if you'll let me.

Fox: (once again getting on his feet) I won't let you! Now get up and get moving! (indicates further up the ledge)

Paul let out a deep sigh and started moving again.

Another wave of pain hit Fox, his eyes rolled back and he spun around and started walking down the trail like he was going to return to the camp. Paul, hearing a whimpering cry, turned once again and rushed after Fox as fast as he could go. After a couple unsuccessful tries, Paul finally stopped his staggering forward movement by throwing his arms over Fox's head. After a short struggle, Paul pulled him to the ground about the same time that he passed out.

Fox awoke a few minutes later, finding himself literally sitting in the alien's lap. It had him from behind, Its handcuffed arms wrapped around him and was holding his left wrist with Its right hand across the front of him and his right wrist with Its left hand. He looked around quickly for the gun which he dropped, but it was nowhere in sight. _It must have taken it_, he thought. He wanted to get away, but the alien held both of his wrists firmly in front of him. He struggled, trying to free himself from Its grasp, but as he struggled, It tightened Its hold. He could hear Forrester speaking softly to him, but in his panic, he could not understand what was being said.

Paul continued to talk to Fox, trying to reassure him and calm him down.

Paul: Mr. Fox, take it easy. I won't hurt you. Hold still. I want to help you. I can't unless you hold still.

Paul had been doing hard physical labor these past many months and Fox had not. Strength-wise, there was no contest between the two of them and Paul easily held his adversary. Shortly Fox quit struggling and began to listen. Then he answered ...

Fox: I'm sure you want to help me!

Paul: Yes, I do. Believe me.

Fox commenced to struggle again, but then appeared to give up. Paul began to loosen his grip slowly, but Fox prematurely, started once again to try to free himself. Paul clamped back down on his wrists and so they see-sawed back and forth several times for almost ten minutes. Paul continued to talk to Fox, softly, his voice reflecting no signs of impatience.

Paul: I really DO want to help you. Now, if you'll hold still, I'll let you go.

Fox relaxed once again and Paul, once again, began to slowly release his grip on Fox's wrists. Fox did not try to struggle again and Paul finally let go. He still had his arms wrapped around him though.

Fox apparently realized, that even handcuffed, he was no match for the alien's superior strength and heaving a heavy sigh finally gave up, beaten. He closed his eyes and waited whatever was in store for him.

Paul: (calmly) Now, may I help you? Or are you going to let fear rule instead of reason?

At the sound of the calm and gentle voice, Fox opened his eyes.

Fox: Do I have a choice?

Paul: Certainly. I won't do anything if you don't want me to. But believe me; I can help you if you'll let me.

Fox felt the onset of another wave of pain and nausea.

Fox: Okay then, help me, PLEASE! I can't stand it any longer.

Paul cautiously moved his arms up over Fox's head, ready to resume the tug of war if Fox resumed his panic driven struggling, but Fox no longer resisted.

Fox jumped as Paul gently touched the fingers of one hand to his right temple and fully felt his pain. He cringed from the intensity. He also felt another strong emotion present, but could not quite identify it.

Paul: (gently) Close your eyes please.

Fox: Why?

Paul: It'll make you relax. I won't do anything that's going to hurt you. I'm going to loosen the muscles in your neck and back and that should help your nerves and relieve some of the pain you're feeling. You're afraid and very tense. Your fear is partly what's causing the pain. Now close your eyes and try to relax.

The pain was easing and Fox felt Paul pulling himself from under him. His eyes flew wide open when he heard him get up and move around him.

Fox: (alarmed) Where are you going?

Paul: Please, keep your eyes closed. Don't worry.

Paul knelt down in front of Fox and once again put his fingers up to Fox's temples, holding it there for several moments.

Paul: You can open your eyes now. I don't feel the pain anymore.

Fox opened his eyes, finding himself looking directly into Paul's. The pain was gone, like it had never been there!

Fox: How did you ...?

Paul: Never mind how. You wouldn't understand. ... I saw you looking for your gun. (pointing a ways up the ledge) It's over there.

Paul got up and began to search around the area again like he was searching for food, leaving Fox to sit with his own thoughts for a while. He soon saw him get up, walk up the ledge to retrieve his gun and approach. He had the gun in his hand, but the look on his face and his manner of approach, told Paul that he had no intention of using it.

Fox: Why?

Paul: Why what?

Fox: Why did you stop me from falling? You'd've been rid of me.

Paul: I had to help you. That's just the way I am. To stand there and not do anything, well ... I can't.

Fox: But why save me? I'm your enemy. I would think that you'd want me dead.

Paul: Mr. Fox, I've already told you that I cannot hurt anyone. Life, to me is precious, not a thing to be wasted or needlessly destroyed. Why can't you believe me and accept what I'm telling you?

Fox: Even my life?

Paul: Yes, even yours.

Fox took his hands and buried his face in them. He let out a long groaning sigh.

Paul: (alarmed) What's wrong? Has the pain come back?

Fox: No.

Paul: Then what?

Fox: It's another kind of pain.

Paul: I don't understand.

Fox: When I think of how I've treated you.

Paul: (comprehending the meaning) Oh ... you mean ... like an animal?

Fox: (ashamed) Yes.

Paul: (smiling) My son _did_ accuse you of being a slave driver or of using something he called Gestapo tactics.

Fox: (looks into Paul's eyes) A slave driver? Gestapo? He thought I was that bad?

Paul: Yes, however bad that is. He didn't want to explain it to me.

Fox: And you?

Paul: What can I say? You shot me, whipped me, and forced me to work, sometimes under unreasonable conditions...

Fox: (cutting in) ... like a slave.

Paul: Or an animal, ... yes.

Fox: I guess I was pretty bad.

Paul: I can agree with that. You were.

They stood in silence looking at each other for a long moment.

Fox: (taking a deep breath) Forrester, I don't think we're going to find anything to eat up here.

Paul: I don't think so either.

Fox: C'mon. Let's get back to camp. We better get you cleaned up before those scratches get infected. I don't feel like babysitting you with a fever again. And I think I'd better find Wylie.

Paul looked down and for the first time noticed that his chest and stomach were caked with dried blood. He nodded. Then with no further comment, Fox holstered his gun, reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out the twin set of keys. He reached for and took hold of one of Paul's hands, inserted the key into the handcuff and unlocked one and then the other. He then knelt down and removed the leg irons and stood up again. Again they looked into each other's eyes.

Fox: Let's just say, I think I'm beginning to trust you enough that I don't think these are necessary anymore, and leave it at that. Okay?

Paul: Okay. Thank you.

Fox: Yeah, ... well let's go.

The joy and elation Paul felt could have easily been recognized on his face had he allowed it to show, but he did not. He did not want Fox to suddenly change his mind and restrain him again by alarming him with over excitement at being released, thereby putting fear back in him.

They started back to camp. Fox took the lead, occasionally casting a quick glance back to see that Forrester was following him, but at an acceptable distance behind.

########################################

Wylie had slipped into camp and had gone to where Scott was sitting handcuffed to the tree.

Scott: Wylie!

Wylie: Shh. Not so loud. Where's Fox? ... and your Dad?

Scott: Fox took Dad out food gathering, I think.

Wylie: How long ago?

Scott: I dunno, maybe an hour.

Wylie took out his pistol.

Scott: What're are you gonna do?

Wylie: Shoot those handcuffs off. Fox has the only key.

Scott: (quietly) Awright!

Wylie: Put your arms up as high as you can and spread your hands. I don't want to make a mistake and hit you.

Scott: But when Fox hears the shot, ...Dad.

Wylie: Get ready to run.

Scott: But I'm scared of what Fox'll do to Dad when he finds out I'm missing. I'm scared he's gonna hurt Dad again.

Wylie: You saying you want to stay his prisoner?

Scott: Well no, but ...

Wylie: Then it's a chance we've gotta take. We'll get your dad away from Fox, I promise, but one problem at a time.

Scott: I can't Wylie. He might hurt Dad again. But wreck the handcuffs anyway so he can't use 'em. I'll stay here until you take care of Fox.

Wylie: Okay, if that's the way you want it. Put your arms up and look away.

Scott did as Wylie asked and Wylie placed the muzzle of the pistol against the chain and tree. He fired upwards and the link split. Scott stood up and pulled the two pieces of remaining chain apart, then watched as Wylie started running out on the beach.

Paul and Fox were almost back to camp when they heard the gunshot.

Fox: Wylie!

Paul: Scott!

Paul took off at a dead run past George Fox and into camp. Fox was right behind him and stopped frozen in his tracks when he saw Wylie stopped frozen too, standing on the beach. Wylie quickly pointed his gun at Fox just as Fox put his hand on his own gun and drew, ready to shoot, but Paul stepped into the way, between them.

Paul: STOP! (extending his arms) Please stop! (with urgency) Wylie, put away your gun! (to Fox) You too Mr. Fox!

Wylie: Get out of the way Forrester!

The two agents didn't move or lower their weapons and Paul didn't move out of the line of fire.

Paul: (to both of them) Please, put the guns down. I really don't want to get shot again. Please! Now!

Paul just stood there in between Fox and Wylie, an open target, the only thing between the two armed men that stopped them from killing each other. He kept his arms stretched out to both of them.

Paul: (softer) Put the guns away ... Please.

Wylie: (coming out of his shock) Huh? Wait a minute! The handcuffs, the leg chain ... where are they?

Fox: (lifting his left hand) Right here.

Wylie: I don't understand. (to Paul) Why are you free?

Fox: Because I decided to release him.

Wylie: _You_ decided ... to release him?

Fox: Yes. (takes the cuff keys and throws them to Paul) Here Forrester. (to Wylie) Scott too.

Wylie: What made you come to that decision?

There was silence.

Paul: Go ahead Mr. Fox, tell him.

Scott was listening to their conversation and ran to his father after Paul signaled to Scott that it was all right, then he saw the dried blood.

Scott: Dad! Dad, what happened?

Paul: I'll tell you later. Give me your hands.

Scott: (quietly as Paul unlocked what remained of Scott's handcuffs) Dad, what's going on?

Paul: Shh, listen.

Fox slowly holstered his gun and began walking toward Wylie. Wylie lowered his gun and Fox just walked past him and stopped, staring out at the ocean.

Fox: (pauses and takes a deep breath) I fell ... up on the ridge. Forrester for some unknown reason, caught me. ... _he_ saved _me_. (takes another shaky breath) By the grace of God, I don't know why, but _he_ helped _me_. If he hadn't, I'd be... I don't think we need any more chains here.

Fox strode off down the beach a ways, his head down. Wylie stood there motionless. He looked at Paul and then at Fox, then followed behind Fox, cautiously. Scott stood with his father.

Scott: What's he talking about Dad? What does he mean? ... You mean _you_ saved _his_ life again?

Paul: Shh. (quietly) C'mon, let's go sit out on the beach and I'll tell you all about it.

They sat out of earshot of Fox and Wylie and Paul told Scott the details of the morning events.

Scott: Dad, you could've fallen! You could've been killed! ... for him!

Paul: Scott! It's alright. (puts an arm around Scott) You know I had to save him. (holding out his hands) And look where it got me. You know I'm right, don't you?

Scott: Yeah, I guess.

Paul: Now, do you think you could learn to get along with him?

Scott: What choice do I have? We're stuck on this island with him.

Paul: But there's another way to look at it. He's stuck with us too.

Scott: I think I'd rather be stuck with us than with him any day, and that's no joke Dad.

Paul: Just give it your best effort. It would certainly make living here easier if we can all get along.

Scott: Look Dad, just don't push me, okay? It's gonna take a lot of time and some getting used to him, if that's even possible. I just hope he's not gonna keep trying to push us around like he has. I mean, we've been running from him for two whole years, and Dad ... he shot you ... and he beat you! And it wasn't even your fault!

Paul looked at his son sympathetically.

Scott: I'll try ... okay?

Paul: (smiles) That's all I ask.

Scott: I think I better get the med kit, clean you up and put some sulfur on those scratches.

Paul: (staring down at himself) Yes, that lava was rough. These scratches really do hurt. ... but Scott, I think I have a better idea.

Scott: What?

Paul: (raising his hands) No handcuffs! Let's go swimming. You can put the sulfur on later.

Scott looked up at his father, a sly smile came over his face as he bolted toward the water.

Scott: Last one in is a rotten egg!

Paul: (continuing to stand there for a moment as he ran Scott's statement over in his mind) Rotten egg? (then runs after Scott) Scott, what does a rotten egg have to do with swimming?

Paul and Scott both enjoyed their freedom in the water for the first time and after all the blood had washed away, it was determined that Paul wasn't really badly hurt after all. The swimming allowed both father and son to exercise chest, shoulder and back muscles that had been too long confined by restraints. It felt good to be able to move freely again.

Paul and Scott continued to keep an eye on Fox and Wylie as they talked on the shore, but the talk soon turned into a shouting match. Paul got out of the water and went over to them. Scott timidly joined his father. One thing Paul did not want was these two men fighting, especially since they both had guns. Someone could get killed.

Wylie: (loudly) But you shot me!

Fox: Yes, I know and I'm sorry, but why did you have to push me so hard?

Wylie: Because you were wrong!

Fox: Okay, I was wrong! Please forgive me.

Wylie: Forgive you! What's to prevent you from killing me the next time?

Paul: (from behind Wylie) He won't and there won't be a next time. He's sorry he hurt you, Wylie. Can you forget it now and forgive him?

Wylie: Have you? Do you forgive him for treating you and Scott like animals? And everything else?

Paul: Yes, I have. Now, can you?

Wylie: (eying George icily) I don't know.

Paul: You can do it if you want. Just give it a try for all of us.

Fox and Wylie both left the camp, each in a different direction. They each needed time to think over the events of the morning. Wylie took the spear and went fishing some ways down the beach. Fox just disappeared into the jungle, not returning until late in the afternoon. Fox apparently had a lot of soul searching to do and for that he needed to be completely alone.

When Wylie returned he proceeded to prepare his catch. Supper went quietly with Wylie sitting between Paul and Scott directly opposite Fox. Wylie divided his catch equally and everyone ate in silence. As they got ready to go to sleep, Paul took Scott and returned to the tree that they had been chained to all these months. Wylie decided to sleep out on the open beach about twenty feet away from Fox.

Paul: (quietly to Scott) They still don't trust each other.

Scott: Well, I wouldn't either if I'd been shot by him. You just can't waltz up like nothing's happened and expect everything to be buddy buddy y'know.

Paul: I know. What Mr. Fox did fractured their friendship.

Scott: They were friends? ... but wait a minute, Dad. Why are we sleeping by this stupid tree?

Paul: Because Fox is still uneasy about trusting us, that's why. He'll feel safer if we're not that close.

Scott: Swell, but it looks like it might rain tonight. I wanna sleep inside where it's dry.

Paul: You actually want to sleep next to Mr. Fox?

Scott: No, I hate to even think about it, but it's dry in the lean-to.

Paul: (smiling) Alright, go ahead, but move slowly and sleep on the other side of the lean-to. Don't crowd him now, Scott.

Scott: What about you?

Paul: I'll sleep here, now you go ahead.

Paul watched as Scott lay down opposite Fox in the lean-to. Fox watched too and then looked at Paul.

Paul: It looks as if it might rain again. Is it alright if he sleeps inside?

Fox looked at Scott, then nodded to him.

Fox: (quietly) You can too, Forrester.

Paul smiled and joined his son. He lay down next to Scott and felt his son wiggle his way closer to his chest. Paul spread their leaves over himself and his son and laid his arm across Scott's waist. He closed his eyes and listened to the crackle of the fire and the steady rhythm of the waves breaking and running onto the shore. Soon they were all asleep.

Paul awakened before dawn and lay still. His son was still asleep, nestled against his body. Paul smiled as he thought of how simply Scott communicated his love and trust by this close personal contact. It was a warm human feeling that he'd come to enjoy.

Several minutes passed and Paul heard Fox begin to stir. Fox opened his eyes and was a little shaken and surprised to see Paul watching him.

Paul: (whispering) Good morning.

Fox: (nodding, then, also in a whisper, indicates Scott) Still sleeping?

Paul: Yes.

Scott: (mumbling) No.

Paul: I thought you were asleep.

Scott: I was, 'til now.

Paul: I'm sorry I woke you.

Scott: That's okay Dad. When's breakfast? ... or do we have anything for breakfast?

Fox: We don't. I'll go see what I can find.

Fox started to get up.

Paul: No, Scott can go find something. I want to talk to you anyway.

Scott: Talk to him about what Dad?

Paul: I'll tell you later when you get back, now go.

Wylie had awakened and arose at the start of their conversation and walked over.

Wylie: What's going on?

Paul: Scott's going to find us some breakfast and I want to talk to Mr. Fox.

Wylie: (to Paul) Alone?

Paul: No, you're included.

Scott: How come I'm not? What's the big secret?

Paul: No secret. (looks at Scott and sees his dissatisfaction) I just thought you wanted breakfast first. Okay, sit down Wylie and you too Scott. We can all get something for breakfast later.

Everyone sat down together for the first time since their arrival on the island.

Paul: Mr. Fox, Wylie, I have a suggestion. Now that Scott and I aren't chained to a tree anymore, I was thinking of building another lean-to for Scott and myself, but a lean-to doesn't offer much protection from the weather. The season is changing and more and heavier rainstorms seem to be coming all the time. Why don't we build a house?

Wylie: A house?

Fox: (repeating) A house? With what?

Paul: With bamboo for a frame, the shore leaves and grass for the walls and roof, and vines to hold it all together. It's like that TV show you showed me Scott.

Fox: You mean a hut? ... What TV show?

Scott: (a little embarrassed) Uh, I think he means 'Gilligan's Island'.

Fox started laughing and Wylie joined in.

Fox: Gilligan's Island! You've been watching 'Gilligan's Island'?

Paul: Yes. (with a straight face) What's so funny? The situation is the same, even if it is only a television show. There were seven of them. So there are only four of us. They were shipwrecked and beached. We're helicopter wrecked and we are on an uninhabited island, just like they were. Rescue doesn't seem to be forthcoming anytime in the immediate future, although there is hope. And most important, we need to protect ourselves from the weather with something a little sturdier than a lean-to. ... What do you think?

Wylie: (after gaining control of his laughing, thinking seriously) He's got a point. We should've built a hut months ago.

Fox: (seriously) So who thought we were gonna be here this long? Not me, and not you either.

Paul: Well?

Wylie: Who's going to build it?

Paul: All of us.

Scott: (dejectedly) Yeah,, do we get to sleep in it too, or are we gonna get shoved outside like when we built the lean-to?

Paul: Scott!

Scott: (with anger) Look Dad, we built the lean-to, and except for the time when you got shot and until last night, we never even got to use it! Every time it rained, we were the ones who drowned out here, not them! I'm not going to build any house if we don't get to use it! (disgusted) I'm gonna go look for some breakfast.

Scott got up and stormed off down the beach. Paul could see Fox and Wylie were a little hurt by Scott's accusations, however true they were.

Paul: I'm sorry. Scott shouldn't have said that.

Wylie: But he's right. You and Scott built this lean-to but were never allowed to use it, except for when Scott said. Same story for the blankets. We have two of 'em, but you and Scott never got to use them either. You had to sleep out in the open until last night. And you still used leaves to cover yourselves.

Fox: Okay, okay! I get the drift! We'll all sleep in the hut and I'll give you my blanket Forrester, ... if Wylie will share his with me?

Wylie: I'll share with you. It's what I suggested the second night we were here.

Fox: (meekly) I remember.

Paul: So do we build the hut?

Fox: Yes.

Paul: Great, but I think we'd all better go look for some breakfast. Somehow, in his present state of mind, I don't think Scott's going to be too successful.

Fox: (to Wylie) You go spear us some fish while Forrester and I start collecting materials.

Wylie: Giving orders again?

Fox: No ... a suggestion. Please?

Wylie: (smiling) Fresh fish coming up.

Fox and Paul set out to pick the location and start gathering materials. About an hour later Scott returned with what food he could find after he had cooled off, and found everyone gone. He saw Wylie down the beach fishing, put down a fallen coconut he had found and walked over to him.

Wylie: Hi Scott.

Scott: Where's Dad?

Wylie: They went to cut some bamboo to build the hut.

Scott just looked down, sadness and anger in his face.

Wylie: What's the matter?

Scott: I don't know. I just feel like Dad and me are gonna get tossed out like dogs again when this is all finished. I don't care if he did turn Dad and me loose, I still don't trust him.

Wylie: I know how you feel. I've worked with him for years and I thought I knew him. I never thought he'd actually ...

Scott: (finishes) Shoot?

Wylie: Yeah. He seems to be okay again, but I'm still wondering why he was acting like he did.

Paul and Fox came back to the beach, each carrying a load of bamboo. Paul had noticed that Fox was still very uneasy around him. He had avoided letting Paul have the ax to cut the bamboo. Paul was content with that arrangement, after all they had been free for only one day, and he let Fox do it, busying himself with stripping off the blade like leaves. He knew Fox needed more time to develop some trust of either of them. He felt there was a lot that Fox hadn't told him yet and that he would continue to work on finding out.

Wylie had caught some fish and when Paul and Fox had returned, had them cleaned and was starting to cook. By the time they were ready, it was a welcome break for everyone.

They ate the meal and afterward Fox's first test at trusting Scott came when Scott asked for the hunting knife to cut the vines. To make the pressure worse, everyone was staring at him. Reluctantly, Fox complied.

Wylie went with Scott to help him cut the vines while Paul and Fox cleaned the brush away and got ready to assemble the framework. Scott made several trips, then helped his father and Fox tie the framework together. Under the watchful scrutiny of his father, Scott handed the knife back to Fox. That act broke some of the ice between the two, but it was a long way from being completely thawed out. They spent the rest of the day, until almost sunset, clearing the land and assembling part of the framework.

In the months they had been on the island, Wylie had been learning the ins and outs of the local plants, fish and shellfish. He knew which ones were barely edible and which were both edible and good. He had discovered that a ready food supply was on hand and they had never suffered again from the hunger they had experienced in the beginning. This time Wylie had gone looking for clams for supper. He was happier finding, catching and preparing the meals for everyone than building the hut. He confessed to them at supper that he had no building blood in him and would only get in everyone's way.

Wylie baked the clams and a couple of birds eggs in the shells at the edge of the fire and after a satisfying meal they were all ready to call it a day so that they could get an early start in the morning. The framework was almost completed and true to his promise, Fox gave Paul and Scott his blanket and shared Wylie's, though Wylie was apprehensive about sleeping with Fox. Paul calmed their fears with a suggestion of his own.

Paul: Okay look, if you two don't want to trust each other with your guns, then give me the bullets. You keep the guns, I'll have the ammunition and then neither one needs to fear the other. You know, guns without bullets and bullets without a gun.

Fox: Give you the bullets! No way!

Wylie: (to Fox) Well, I will if you will. After this, (pointing to the scab on his arm) I'm sorry, but I don't trust you.

Wylie emptied his weapon and handed Paul the clip and the bullet from the chamber.

Fox just stood there unwilling to comply. After tense minutes of having Paul, Scott and Wylie, again staring at him, he too emptied his gun and gave Paul his ammunition. Paul left the camp and stashed the ammunition in what he considered a safe place. It was a truce and everybody slept easier that night.

At sunrise they started the routine all over again. Wylie officially took on the chore of being cook. By mid morning Paul and Fox had finished tying the framework and started tying on the fronds. Scott again borrowed the knife and brought back load after load of vines and fronds.

It was the middle of the third day after they had started building when the hut was finally finished. It looked more like a teepee than anything else with its conical roof and semicircular walls. They stood outside rightfully admiring their handiwork.

Fox: (quietly) Home sweet home.

Paul: For now, yes. Not bad. Much better than a lean-to, don't you think?

Fox nodded his affirmation. What Fox didn't say, but Paul suspected, was that building this hut was a final admission that rescue might not be coming for a long, long time, if ever. Paul felt that Fox hated that thought when he had suggested building the hut.

Scott: Well, I guess we'd all better move in.

Paul: Not quite yet. There's one more thing to do.

Fox: What's that?

Paul: Mr. Fox, there's a feeling of tension between all of us and we need to deal with that before we can begin to understand each other and make the best of our situation here. I think it's necessary that we get rid of these tensions and fears before we move into our new house and try to live together.

Fox: Yes, I guess you're right.

No one offered to start though. No one wanted to open old wounds.

Paul: I'll go first. (pause) Mr. Fox ... why did you treat us like you did?

Fox gulped down a swallow.

Fox: I don't think I want to talk about that.

Paul: I think you need to talk about it. I think we all need to talk.

Fox swallowed hard once again and was silent for a long moment. This definitely wasn't going to be easy. Then he slowly began to relax and speak.

Fox: (with a sigh) You're right. I think I do owe you all an explanation. It... was a test, though not at first. First I just wanted to make sure that I maintained control until we were rescued. But when rescue didn't come I devised a test.

Wylie: (exploding) A test! What kind of test could possibly justify all the things you've done to them?

Fox: I was trying to prove they were a danger. That was our job, Wylie. You should know that.

Wylie: Our job wasn't to prove they were a danger, Mr. Fox. Our job was to determine if they were a danger. There's a big difference. And if you were doing a test, why didn't you ever tell me about it?

Fox: I couldn't.

Wylie: I'm your partner for Christ sake! You couldn't trust me enough after all the time we've worked together to tell me?

Fox: (pause) No. I saw how you were beginning to like them! It would have ruined the results!

Wylie: Cheez, you can't ruin results! You can only accept them!

Fox: (with anger) Would you have approved?

Wylie didn't answer. Paul just allowed the two men to let it out, but if they resorted to violent measures, he was prepared to step in and stop them.

Fox: See! You wouldn't have gone along with me or the way I did it.

Wylie: Hell no! Sounds to me like you already had your mind made up about them.

Fox: Well, ... not really.

Wylie: And test or no test, _nothing_ can justify you whipping Forrester! That kind of abuse isn't permitted in _any_ rulebook and YOU KNOW IT!

Fox: (sheepishly) Yes, I know it.

Wylie: Then why? Why did you hurt him?

Fox: I was angry and I used it as a method of controlling Scott. It was my thought that it would get Forrester provoked enough to retaliate. I thought if I ... you get the idea.

Wylie: So you thought if you worked him half to death and beat him, he'd strike back and you'd declare him a menace. Then you'd have the military on your side when they questioned you if you ever had to kill him.

Fox: Yes, and I had justification to test him. He did attack me.

Paul: (forcefully) I didn't attack you! I tripped you. You were going to kill my son.

Fox: I wasn't going to kill him. I was just going to warn him. I wasn't even aiming at him. I was aiming beside him.

Paul: And how was I to know that? All you said was that if Scott didn't stop, you'd shoot.

Fox: Well, I was just going to warn him.

Paul: ... and if he didn't stop? What would you've done then? Would you've killed my son?

Fox: I don't know. I really hadn't thought that far ahead. I was sure he'd stop.

Paul: Well I wasn't.

Wylie: Mr. Fox, you can't condemn them for that one incident. That's no test. You were only supporting your own point of view. What about all the other things? Forrester and Scott have worked for us, without complaint, all these months. Doesn't that count at all?

Fox: Would they have if I hadn't forced them to?

Wylie: You didn't force him to climb the trees for the coconuts. He did it because he wanted to help. He even said so, remember?

Fox: I think I was being fair.

Wylie: You call that fair! Your kinda test, and excuse the pun, is like putting the fox in charge of the chickens.

Fox: And what do you mean by that?

Wylie: You wanted to condemn them by any means, so you chose as evidence only those incidents that led to that conclusion. You dismissed anything else as if it didn't count.

Fox: Well, it was my test.

Wylie: Well, it didn't work, sir!

Paul: May I ask you something else Mr. Fox?

Fox: Yeah, sure.

Paul: What would've happened if I had struck back at you?

Fox: If you had struck back, I'd've been justified in my pursuit of you and your son. Your danger would've been evident and I would've been justified in using whatever means at my disposal to stop you.

Paul: You mean to kill me.

Fox: (with sadness now) Yes.

Paul: That's all it would've taken? You mean I came that close to losing my life?

Fox: (almost inaudibly) Yes.

Paul: You think I should have struck back?

Fox: I would have. Any normal person would have. But you didn't, even when I punished you through your son and your son through you. Instead, you even asked to take the punishment for him.

Paul: Then you would have been happier if I had struck back?

Fox: Happier?

Paul: You'd have had what you wanted.

Fox: Yes.

Paul: I'm sorry I disappointed you.

Fox: (quietly) I'm glad you did. (long pause) Why didn't you retaliate?

Paul: Have you already forgotten the chains ... and the gun? Perhaps if you had hurt my son ... well, I don't know. Violence normally isn't in me, or my kind, but ... (quietly) Besides, my son was wrong when he tried to run away. It was juvenile of him. I tried to explain that to him, but he's almost grown up now and wouldn't listen to me. He had his own ideas.

Fox: The point is he tried to run away, not fight back or retaliate.

Paul: I'm not so sure he wouldn't have if you'd've given him a chance.

Scott: Dad!

Paul: (calmly) Scott, I know you wanted to, you told me you wanted to. I could understand why, but I think Mr. Fox never gave you the chance.

Fox: I'm sure he must have had the opportunity, at least once, when he was with Wylie.

Wylie: Mr. Fox! Are you saying I was taking chances with the prisoners?

Fox: No, not intentionally, but I could see you liked them and could easily have let down your guard. If Scott could've gotten your gun from you, they might have been able to get control. (turns to Scott with a frown on his face) But you never took advantage of Wylie and I couldn't understand why not.

Scott: I wouldn't have tried to hurt Wylie! He was always good to us! He would sometimes help us when you weren't around. He shared his food with us and once went without so we'd have something to eat. When it rained at night, he even took the time to get up and cover us with the big leaves so we'd be somewhat dry. We couldn't do that ourselves with our arms chained to a tree. He wasn't nasty to us like you were!

Paul: Scott!

Fox: It's alright Forrester. (to Wylie) So you got up and covered them, did you? (back to Paul and Scott) I never even noticed or thought about it. I always assumed you covered yourselves every night. (to Wylie again) You were beginning to like them a lot more than I realized.

Wylie: (with an apologetic look) Yes, I guess I did. At first though, I just felt sorry for them. I guess liking them started when I was taking care of Forrester after you shot 'im, Mr. Fox.

Paul looked over at Wylie and noticed the look on his face.

Paul: You don't have to apologize Wylie. What you were doing were acts of kindness. Kindness will always finds its own reward.

Wylie: (continuing) ... and then that night he was in shock, I laid next to him and I can't explain it, but ... I felt something ... something pleasant, warm.

Fox: You said he was cold.

Wylie: I know, and he was, but...there was something.

Paul: (with eyes lighting up) Oh?

Paul thought and reflected about what Wylie had felt and not wishing to get into an explanation of his own being at this time, decided to try for a change of subject.

Paul: ...Well Mr. Fox? Have we passed your test or not? ... and breathed a sigh of relief when Wylie took his lead.

Wylie: Well, did they?

Fox: No, you failed my kind of test a long time ago. Wylie was right. I wasn't being fair. Then I kept 'testing'. I couldn't stop.

Wylie: Why not sir? I could see right away that they were no threat to us as soon as I got to know them better.

Fox: I guess I didn't want to see it. I wanted them to be a danger. I didn't have an open mind like you. (to Paul) I was so sure I was right about you. My whole life had revolved around catching you and proving to the world you were a menace. Then the headaches continued to get worse. At first I thought it was because of the bump I got on the head when we crashed, but they didn't go away. I've had migraines off and on all my life, but this was like nothing I've ever experienced. Then I ran out of medicine. I think then, I began to fear you.

Paul: Fear me? Why?

Fox: You know we really have no idea of the extent of what you can do. What I saw at Peagrum scared me and I was vulnerable. I could pass out and lose control. I began to fear you not for what I thought you would do to the world, but for what I had been doing to you. I didn't want to get near you, to have to talk to you like this, face to face, or to try to understand you and to have to face the fact that I might have been wrong. I guess I didn't like being wrong after all those years. And the headaches, ... you can't imagine how bad they got after I ran out of medicine.

Paul: I know how bad it was, I felt it.

Wylie: You felt it?

Paul: Yes. (and ignoring a questioning look once again)

Fox: That's when I think I just lost control. The more I tried to provoke you so I could justify destroying you if you tested me, the more guilt I think I began to feel and the more often the headaches came. Then there were nightmares, over and over, and no sleep. I guess I could try to blame everything I've done on the headaches and the dreams, but I see now they were a result of the stress and tension from that guilt. ...I guess I passed my own test. I'm the real threat, not you.

Wylie: I think it's my turn to ask a question, Mr. Fox. Why did you shoot me?

Fox: As I said, I was out of control. I could see that you were accepting them and questioning my decisions about them. I couldn't have that. Like Scott, you were testing my authority. My back was against the wall and I felt there was no other way. You must've thought I was loony.

Wylie: Yes, I did, but I was also afraid of you. That's why I ran.

Fox: You had a right to be afraid! Damn, I deliberately shot my own partner!

Wylie: I guess while we're all in a confessing mood, Mr. Fox, I have to admit that I did think you'd gone crazy. When we met on the beach after I shot the handcuffs off Scott and he was afraid to leave the tree for fear of you hurting his father again, I had decided that if you went for your weapon I was gonna kill you before you could hurt anyone else.

Fox: I guess you'd've been justified.

Wylie: I would've killed you too, except Forrester was in the way and I didn't get the chance.

Paul stood there looking at Wylie in alarm. _How can this same man whom I've grown to like and trust, say he would kill another human being ... to protect Scott and me?_, Paul thought. He could not possibly imagine how anyone could take the life of another. The concept was unthinkable. _He's cared for me, he's shown me comforting love and human compassion. How can humans, these same kind humans like Wylie, kill one another?_, he asked himself, and he sadly answered himself, _Because they __**are**__ human_. He stood there silently eying Wylie, but tears were growing inside.

Fox thought back momentarily to the irony of his situation during that day when he was first confronted by an alien who could have killed him, but didn't, and then later his partner who wanted to kill him, but because of the alien, couldn't. He was no longer able to put out of his thoughts a question that had been bothering him for the past few days while they were building the hut.

Fox: Forrester, can I ask you a question while we're trying to clear the air?

Paul: (coming out of his reverie of thought) Certainly. That's why we're doing this.

Fox: That day, ... up on the ledge, ... why did you grab me like that? I couldn't understand why first you pulled me back up off the rocks, and then you nearly scared me to death when you grabbed me. I thought for sure you were going to kill me for what I had been doing to you and your son.

Paul: I would _never_ do that!

Fox: Then why?

Paul: It's really quite simple. I was walking up in front of you when I heard you cry out from the pain. I turned just as you turned and it looked to me like you were going to go down the path again toward camp, but I noticed you were staggering. I followed you and grabbed you by the arm, but you fought me off by swinging your arms and managed to get away. With the handcuffs on, I couldn't get another good hold on you.

Fox: Another hold? I don't remember anything after we started back up the path again.

Paul: I wasn't sure if you would. You were obviously in a great deal of pain and were acting instinctively.

Fox: Sorry I interrupted. Please continue.

Paul: You staggered forward again and I could hardly keep up with you with the leg chains on the rough ground, but you finally stopped for a moment and I had a chance to catch up. When I did, I decided that I probably wouldn't have another chance, so I threw my arms up over your head and grabbed. Right away you started fighting me and I couldn't brace against your struggling with the chains on. I was afraid you'd throw both of us over the edge, so I sat down and held you still until you woke up again. That's why you couldn't find your gun when you looked for it.

Fox: I thought you'd taken it.

Paul: I didn't touch it. It was further up the ledge where you dropped it.

Fox: It was a good fifty feet!

Paul: Yes, a good fifty feet. I still don't know how you stayed up on the ledge until I could catch up to you. Then we had our little test to see who was strongest. (smiling) I won that one.

Fox: I guess you did. Forrester, what can I say, but 'thank you'.

Paul: Thank you is just fine, and you're welcome.

Wylie: So that's what happened that day. That's why you took off the chains and let them free.

Fox: Yes.

They all stood in silence for a couple minutes, thinking of all of the misunderstandings.

Paul: I think you were right Mr. Fox, you were out of control, but I think you're a good man, inside.

Fox: Even after I mistreated you like I did, you still think I'm a good man?

Paul: Yes.

Fox let out a long sigh and hung his head.

Fox: I don't think I am.

They all continued to stand in front of the hut in silence, contemplating what had been said. Then Paul smiled and started to move away.

Fox: (looking up) Where are you going?

Paul: Well, I don't know about you, but I think Scott and I are ready to move in now. It'll be dark soon and we still have to eat.

Fox and Wylie: We're ready too.

Paul smiled as they all started collecting what few possessions they had from the lean-to and took them into the hut. Then Wylie surprised them all by presenting Forrester with his long forgotten camera bag.

Wylie: I was at the helicopter after hunting around for bird's eggs up on the cliffs and when I looked inside I saw the bag with your camera. I thought you might want it back.

Paul: Thank you Wylie.

Wylie: Forrester, would you do us the honor of making this official? I know we can't develop the film, but when we get out of here we'll have something to remember this by.

Scott: Great idea!

Paul: I'll set up the camera on a timed shot so we can all get in the picture.

Fox: I don't know whether I want to remember it.

Paul: Sure you will, Mr. Fox. Put on your best smile.

Paul set up the camera and directed Fox, Wylie and Scott to the position he wished them to hold. He pushed the timer and ran toward the hut to assume his position in the rear, but in his rush, he tripped and stumbled toward everyone while trying to regain his balance. Scott saw it coming and nimbly jumped back, but Paul knocked Fox and Wylie flat, ending up on top of them.

Paul: (with a sheepish grin) Oops. Guess we'd better try that one again. I guess I'm not completely used to moving freely again. (Paul looked up toward the camera just as the shutter clicked)

Everyone laughed as they untangled the mass of arms and legs and Paul proceeded to set up the camera again. The second try was successful, as well as a third after they changed positions and camera direction.

Shortly everyone was in a happy mood as they all sat down to their first meal in their new home. Paul had one more small matter of unfinished business.

Paul: Mr. Fox, I have one more question to ask you.

Fox: What?

Paul: Now that we've built a house and we are going to live together, may I call you George?

Fox: I guess so Forrester, if I can call you Paul, or do you have another name you'd rather be called?

Paul: Paul is just fine. Wylie, I don't think Scott or I know your first name.

Wylie: It's Benjamin, but call me Ben.

Paul: Okay, Ben. There, now that feels better.

########################################

The next morning, after a breakfast of bananas and papayas, Paul was sitting outside the hut with the cut off portion of one of his pant legs. He was trying to rip open the seam with a broken clamshell. George had been watching his efforts earlier, but had left camp, taking the ax and knife with him. Wylie had noticed George's obvious lack of trust in leaving the ax or knife around Paul or Scott, so he lent Paul his pocketknife.

Wylie: What are you doing?

Paul: I'm making new clothes.

Wylie: Out of that?

Paul: It's all the material I have. These Levi's, or what's left of 'em, are worn out. Scott calls it air conditioned.

Wylie laughed.

Wylie: I guess they are at that.

George had just come back with some bamboo he had gathered to make into some furniture. He figured it would add a touch of civilization to their new home. He had an idea for a chair or two to start with, then a table and a bed for himself and Ben. Paul and Scott declined, deciding to continue to sleep on their palm mats on the ground, saying it would probably be more comfortable. Paul finished with his pant leg and handed Ben back his knife and was getting up, obviously ready to leave.

Fox: Where're you going?

Paul: I think I'm going to try that hot spring you wouldn't allow us to use. I need a hot bath. This body smells. I like to keep my body clean. (then as he starts to walk off) Y'know George, you could use one too.

Fox: (a bit plussed) Fine, after you.

Wylie started to laugh, but the look on George's face told him he'd better not.

George waited around camp around five minutes and then started to the hot spring after Paul. He quietly made his way to the pool and remaining out of sight, watched Paul. After a brief swim, Paul sat on the edge of the ledge and scrubbed himself clean, then jumped in again and was now alternately swimming and floating, relaxed.

Paul smiled. He had a sensation he was being watched. He continued to swim and float awhile longer, then swam over to the edge and pulled himself up and out of the water, stood up and calmly walked up on shore, completely unabashed at being totally naked.

Paul: Your turn, George.

George came meekly out from behind some bushes and walked up to Paul, looking him over and staring uncomfortably.

Fox: You knew I was there, didn't you?

Paul: Yes. (sensing George's discomfort) George, what's the matter?

Fox: I guess I'm still finding it hard to think of you as ...

Paul: ... as human? I am though. Well, this body is anyway, even if I am not ... totally.

Fox: Then what are you?

Picking up the cloth from his pant leg and belt, Paul hung the cloth over the belt, then fastened the belt around his waist, rather low, slipping the cloth through between his legs from the back to the front and slipped it under the belt again. He looked at George.

Paul: I guess you could say that I'm an organic energy being. Where you use food to obtain the energy to live, I merely use the energy directly to sustain myself. In my natural form I don't have a skeletal body as you have. My external shape, if you can call it that, is an energy field that can vary depending on what I'm doing or where I am at any particular time. All of what I am remains in that force field.

Fox looked at him, an uncomprehending frown on his face.

Paul: Do you remember when I first came here and took on the form of Scott Hayden?

Fox: Yes.

Paul: Do you remember when that car that Jenny Hayden and I were in, ran into that truck that was on the road and that I carried Jenny and walked out of the explosion and the fire?

Fox: Yes. I wasn't there, but Mark Shermin described it to me. But what does that have to do with the real you?

Paul: I could walk out of the fire, unburned, because of the force field. It protects the real me. I extended that force field to include Jenny and my adopted body with one of the spheres I had brought with me from my ship.

Fox: Okay, I think I understand the force field, but what are you within that force field? That's what I want to know.

Paul: Well, ... I guess you could describe me as you would the spirit that defines each individual ... the consciousness, all that I've learned in my lifetime and all of my genetic information. You hide it all (pointing to his head and sweeping down his body) here, inside where you can't see it. In my natural form, it's not hidden. You can, for the most part, see right through me. ...Do you understand?

Fox: I don't know.

Paul: (patiently trying again) George ... if you could take your spirit, your consciousness, your memories and your genetic information and leave your physical body, then you would be what I am. We're close to the same, you and I, the difference is just the manner of packaging.

Fox: I see ... I think. But you almost died when I shot you. Wouldn't the force field have protected you?

Paul: It would protect the real me that's inside, but there are certain things I had to give up when I merged my field with this body to allow me to stay here.

Fox: Like what?

Paul: It's extended protection. Without the use of an activated sphere, this body is just as vulnerable as yours.

Fox: Then you, the real you, wouldn't die if something happened to that body?

Paul: Not immediately. I would continue for a short time, but I would eventually die. In my natural form I can't live here for long.

Fox: Can't you just change bodies?

Paul: No. My force field is now disbursed throughout this body to maintain it. I don't contain the energy reserves required to complete another transformation from or to another human form. That amount of energy would be available only if a ship was here like in Arizona. Its power allowed me to free myself from the body of Scott Hayden which was dying then.

Fox: Oh. ...How long would you live then?

Paul: Several hours at the most.

Fox: (surprised and shocked) That's all?

Paul: Yes. Now, may I ask you something?

Fox: Sure. Go ahead.

Paul: Just what do you think I am?

Fox: I don't know. Not human, that's for sure. I thought if I could, uh ... get you in a lab and look inside you, literally I mean, ... well, I don't know. I thought I'd see the real you, some kind of alien being inside that body. I thought that body was just a machine.

Paul: Well it is, but then so is yours. If you did look inside me though, you wouldn't find anything different than what's inside you. I don't contain a creature inside me, if that's what you think. If you had cut me open inside your lab, this body might have died just as you might if you were cut open. This body is just as human as yours. It bleeds, it can feel pain and it can die, just like yours.

Fox: I still find that hard to believe.

Paul: I don't see why. When you shot me, you saw my blood, you saw me feel pain, you felt my fever when I was near death as you held me in your arms.

There was no reply from Fox.

Paul: How can I convince you if you don't want to believe it? What will? Do you want x-rays? Or CAT scans? What? What can I do or show you that I am human that I haven't already shown you? Do you want me to die for you?

Fox: No. ... I guess I just need time.

Paul: Well, we have plenty of that.

Paul picked up his worn out cut-off Levi's and underwear and started back to camp.

Paul: I'll see you back at the hut. Enjoy your bath. The hot water feels good.

George watched as Paul walked off looking every bit like Tarzan from an old movie in his denim loincloth. He just stood and watched until Paul was out of sight and thought about what Paul had said. At least on the outside his alien looked human, but inside? To George, that would be a mystery to think about, and think about it he intended to do.

Paul strode back into camp. Scott and Ben were making supper and when they looked up, did a double take.

Scott: Dad, don't you think that's a bit uh, x-rated?

Paul: It serves the purpose. Which is more important, function or looks? My pants have holes in them. What did you want me to do? Besides, it's really quite comfortable. (holding the other pant leg) And, it gives me a change of clothes.

Wylie: (laughing) He's got you there, Scott.

Scott: (to Ben) My father, Tarzan, the ape man.

Paul: What?

Scott: Forget it. Where's Fox?

Paul: He should be along in a few minutes.

Wylie: Sit down Paul. Supper's almost ready.

Paul: Great, where's the menu?

Scott took off for the hut and reappeared in short order, camera in hand and snapped several pictures of his dad and then of both Ben and his father. Ben volunteered to take a couple of pictures of Paul and Scott.

The meal was ready by the time George came back from his bath and they ate with their usual gusto. George was watching Paul in silence, while working in a relaxed manner on a stool. Paul got up and moved over to where George was, sat down and took some of the bamboo and vines and helped George with his crude furniture. Scott was once again on the scene with his dad's camera.

By nightfall, George and Paul had finished two stools. Ben excused himself to retire early, saying that it was time to put some fish on the menu again and the early morning tide was the best time for the catch. Paul got up, walked out onto the beach and sat down again with his hands clasped around his knees, and proceeded to watch the ocean and the coming of the early evening stars. Scott got up to join him and sat beside his father. George continued to sit where he was near the fire and watched Paul and Scott out on the sand.

Scott: Is something wrong, Dad? (no answer) Dad!

Paul: (lost in thought) Hmm?

Scott: I said, is something wrong?

Paul: No, nothing's wrong. (puts an arm around his son's shoulder) The stars are beautiful tonight.

Scott: (with sudden alarm and fear) Uh Dad.

Paul: (smiling) No, I'm not homesick, don't worry. Besides, we're stuck here on this island. (takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly) I was just thinking about your mother. I wonder if she's watching the stars tonight ... and if she's thinking about us.

Scott: I don't know, but I hope so. It's a nice thought anyway. (pause) I wonder if we'll ever find her.

Paul: We will, someday. (quieter) We will.

Scott: (also quietly, but sadly) Yeah, sure.

Paul: (squeezing him tighter) We will. I promise. Trust me.

Scott stood up and Paul looked at him, thinking about how much he had grown in the months that they had been on this island. With that exception, time just seemed to stand still now. Scott put his hand on his father's shoulder and turned to go back to the hut.

Scott: I'm tired Dad. I think I'm gonna follow Ben. Maybe I'll go out fishing with him in the morning. You comin' to bed?

Paul: In a while. I think I'll just sit out here a while longer.

Scott: Okay, goodnight Dad.

Paul: Goodnight Scott.

Scott walked toward the hut, past George who had moved near enough to hear the conversation between father and son. As Scott left he noticed George and then saw him walking over toward his father.

Fox: May I join you?

Paul: Please.

Fox: Nice night.

Paul: (again lost in thought) Yes, it is.

Fox: Paul?

Paul: Yes?

Fox: Can you show me where you're from? Which star?

Paul: What time is it?

Fox: (looks at his watch) 8:30.

Paul: Not yet. My home star isn't high enough to see yet. Give it another hour or two and then I'll show you.

Fox: How far away is it?

Paul: In your terms, many light years.

Fox: But if it's so far away, how did you get back and forth so fast? I mean, is faster than light travel possible?

Paul: It wouldn't help for me to tell you how I did it. You wouldn't understand. The words I need to describe the process don't even exist in your language. Besides, my people wouldn't allow me to give you that kind of information.

Fox: Oh. ... Paul? Come to think of it, Paul isn't really your name. What is?

Paul: I don't have one. I have what you might call a designation or a position, but not a proper name like you think of names.

Fox: So what is it?

Paul: In English, it would translate to pilot or navigator.

Fox: And in your language?

Paul reached out his hand, hesitating before touching George, then briefly touched his right temple when George made no attempt to move away.

Paul: That's my name.

Fox: I've never 'heard' anything like it. It sounds melodic, musical.

Paul: I guess you could describe it that way. We incorporate both music and the spoken word in our language.

Fox: How many languages do you have on your planet?

Paul: Just one.

Fox: One? You mean everybody speaks the same language?

Paul: Yes, just like there is only one government, one set of rules and laws, and one planet, united as a whole, not like your people with different countries, each with their own set of laws, languages, customs. Sometimes it's all so confusing to me how your people can do it.

Fox: It's natural.

Paul: (with a laugh) For you, yes, but not for me. One is much simpler. (takes a deep breath and continues once again seriously) But in becoming one, we have also lost something.

Fox: What?

Paul: We've become so much alike. There aren't the differences, the variety like you have, so many different people; different colors, races, languages. My world is older and more civilized and in its own way challenging, but yours contains the excitement of its youth. I think of all the things your world, still in its infancy, has yet to learn. The excitement of discovery and knowledge that can be in your future. It's fascinating.

Fox: You mean on your world there are no more things to discover?

Paul: There are always new things to discover, about things, about ourselves. We are in balance with our world and content with ourselves. That contentment was necessary for us to travel as we do, throughout the universe. We are not aggressive toward intelligences on other worlds because we don't want or need for what they have. We are content and we know that hurting others is wrong. In your infancy, you have so much to discover about yourselves and the world of things around you. I do so hope that your understanding of yourselves will become wisdom in time to keep up with your technology.

Fox: Can't you help us gain that wisdom?

Paul: No. Again, our council wouldn't allow it. You must be allowed to make your own mistakes and your people must be allowed to make their own choices. We could come here to your world and tell you what you must do to survive, but you wouldn't thank us for it. Instead you would come to resent the intrusion on your right to decide for yourselves and then you would become suspicious of our motives. And most important, wisdom must come from making decisions about what's right, not merely what's lawful. Think about it George.

Fox: I will.

They sat silently for a long while looking at the night sky as George thought about what Paul had told him. When it seemed that neither wished to comment further on the present subject and the conversation was at an impasse, there was a bright streak that crossed the sky.

Fox: Hey look, a shooting star.

Paul: Shooting star?

Fox: Yeah, you know a meteorite.

Paul: Oh yes, a piece of fragmented rock caught in your planet's gravitational pull and disintegrated by friction with your atmosphere. Things and ideas ... there are more than you can imagine up there, many of which we are still working on.

Fox: Like what?

Paul: The big one ... why are we?

Fox: You mean religious beliefs.

Paul: No. Religion is just that, a belief. We are looking for the reality. We know that strange and unexplainable things do happen. Why is change seemingly a constant throughout the universe? One star supernovas and another star system is born. Why does life start on one planet of a particular star system and not on all the others? Is it chance, or is there a plan? We continue to search for the answer, but so far we must accept the reality of those things.

Fox: Whoa, that sounds like ... heavy stuff. (pause) Do you want to go back out there?

Paul: (with a sigh) Yes, someday, but I can't right now. ... George, since you seem to be so interested in my life before I came here, do you want me to tell you what I did?

Fox: Please.

After a moment of silence, Paul laid down on his back looking up at the sky, his hands clasped behind his head.

Paul: I was a pilot and a navigator attached to one of our intergalactic mother ships. My 'friends', and I used to race through specified quadrants of the visible universe in smaller exploration craft, like the one that picked me up in Arizona. I'd prepare charts of galaxies and star systems we had never been to before or which it had been decided needed further exploration. The entire universe was our playground. We could go anywhere. I'd plot the course and record what we had found on our star charts, then when we had finished with that sector, we'd communicate to the mother ship and discuss our findings with them. Returning to the mother ship was like going home.

Fox: So what brought you here?

Paul: We had visited here before and noted your earlier development. When my friends and I were passing through the outer edge of your star system on our way to map another part of your galaxy we found your Voyager probe. A check of our previous visits indicated that a follow up of your planet was not scheduled for several hundred of your years yet, but it was agreed that since you seemed to be ahead, technologically, of our prediction, that we would approach to see if contact might be warranted. When we entered your system, everything changed for me. (sighs) That was so long ago, but it seems like yesterday.

Fox: Please, continue.

Paul: I was chosen to make a quiet approach, landing in an isolated area from which I could explore and determine if actual personal contact was warranted. Then everything went wrong.

Fox: So why did you land?

Paul: If you'll recall, I didn't exactly ... land. Your military planes shot at me, and although crude, they were quite effective. The small craft I was using did not contain a deflective device. I went down and much of what I needed to survive here while making my evaluation and contact if it was warranted was lost in the crash. I had to take on human form just to survive, but that human symbiosis could only survive for a short time. After I communicated with the ship that the inhabitants here were still hostiles, naturally the High Council voted against any attempts at contact. The most important thing then was to rendezvous with the ship within the allotted time limit or they would have left without me and I would have died. You know the rest of the story.

Fox: Did you kidnap Jenny Hayden?

Paul: (a concerned look on his face) Kidnap is a rather strong word to use, but I guess now that that is what you would have called it. I needed help. I was not familiar enough with the language, rules or customs of your planet. It would have been almost impossible for me to travel across the country without, as Scott would say, 'sticking out like a sore thumb'. Jenny was there and I ... kinda insisted that she accompany me. I never intended to do her any harm and when she realized that, we began to trust each other, and I began to experience the strong emotional responses of your young race. I guess you might say that I ... fell in love with her.

Fox: Doesn't your race feel emotions?

Paul: I guess at one time we did like you do, but not anymore, not in the sense that you do.

Fox: Then how do you relate to one another?

Paul: We relate out of respect to one another. That concept would be just as foreign to you as your emotional responses were to me when I came here. I knew I couldn't stay at that time and I wanted to give Jenny something for all she had done for me. She said one time that she had wanted to have a baby with her husband, but that she couldn't have children. Fulfilling that request was within my power to grant, so I gave her Scott.

Fox: (perplexed) Just like that?

Paul: Well ... uh ...

Fox: But why did you come back?

Paul: Scott needed me. (pause) I had left; his mother had to give him up to protect him from you and your men, then his foster parents were killed. He had no one.

Fox: But how did you know?

Paul: He called me.

Fox: Called you?

Paul: Yes.

Fox: How?

Paul: With the sphere I had left for him with his mother. But he was unaware that he had called out for help. Through the sphere I could feel his loss, his loneliness and fear. When I came back I had to prove to him that I was his father. A recording that his mother had made before she left him in Seattle helped him to understand. That was the tape you picked up at the train terminal.

Fox: But it didn't say anything. When I played that tape in front of Liz Baines, I was never so embarrassed ...

Paul: I'm sorry about that, but I couldn't allow you to hear what was on that recording. It was very personal to Scott. He still didn't want to believe that I was his father and that a part of him was different from everyone else. He still finds that hard to deal with sometimes. It's important to him that we find his mother, but until then, I must provide for him and teach him what he needs to know to become a beneficial member of your society.

Fox: Beneficial?

Paul: Yes. Don't you believe that he could be beneficial?

Fox: I never thought about it that way. I've always thought he'd be a danger to us, that he'd have more than normal intelligence and power.

Paul: He does George, but that part of him is still growing, just like his body. That's one of the reasons I came back; why my people allowed me to come back, because he needed me to help him develop correctly and to use that power for the benefit of your people. Then perhaps someday your people and mine could meet. That is why you sent the Voyager probe into space, isn't it, to meet an extraterrestrial race?

Fox: (slowly) Yes. Funny, that's just what someone else once told me too. I guess I've been somewhat of a hindrance to you, haven't I?

Paul: Yes. Scott needs Jenny. We've been trying to find her ever since I returned and always being on the run hasn't helped matters. Then in Arizona, you ruined that reunion with her. Now you have both of us. (looks up in the direction of his home star) What happens next is up to you I suppose.

Fox: How's that?

Paul: Well, every day we remain here is one more day I live, free to teach. If rescue does come ... well, technically we're still your prisoners. Our lives are in your hands. If you take us back to some lab ... (softer) I want to live, George, ... and I want my son to live too. The ultimate decision is yours. I just want you to think about it. You've freed us here, in a controlled situation, but will you let us go free, out there?

There was silence as Fox thought about Paul's appeal for his and his son's freedom. Paul looked toward the horizon and pointed.

Paul: There George, there's my home, just above the trees. Do you see it?

Fox: No, which one are you pointing to?

Paul: Get beside me... follow my arm ... there.

Fox: Okay, now I see it. Where is that?

Paul: On your star charts, it's the Algeiba system; in the sickle of the constellation you call Leo. (stands up and turns to head back to the hut) I think I'll turn in now. You coming?

Fox: In a minute.

When Paul started back he found his son sitting on the beach.

Paul: (softly) What are you doing here? I thought you said you were going to bed?

Scott: I was, but I saw George go out to talk to you and I wanted to try something with the camera.

Paul: What?

Scott: Never mind. It'll be a surprise.

Paul: And were you listening?

Scott: I was just sitting here. I couldn't help but hear what you were talking about. Do you think there's a chance he'll let us go?

Paul: (sighing) I don't know. His dedication to his job tells me no, but I think he's working it over in his mind. We'll just have to wait and see. ...Scott, eavesdropping isn't nice.

Scott: I didn't intend to listen Dad. I'm sorry.

Paul: (smiling) Okay, you're forgiven, this time.

Scott: Thanks Dad.

Paul: C'mon, let's go to bed.

########################################

Since Paul had helped George with his headache up on the cliff that day, George had been relieved from his recurring nightmare, but tonight his vision returned to haunt him once again.

It began the same and proceeded through the alien's plea for Its freedom. Fox could do nothing but watch, and as Paul Forrester reached out toward him he could not stop himself from drawing his weapon. ... There was a shot, ... but his gun had not fired. Paul screamed but George heard no words. Paul then clutched his manacled hands to his chest and dropped down onto the floor, ground, or whatever it was they were standing on, apparently dead.

Suddenly a second figure began to materialize with its back to him, its head held high. As the slim youthful body commenced to revolve on the unseen pedestal, in his mind George recognized Scott Hayden. Scott turned slowly until he was looking directly into George's eyes. Then he looked down and saw his fallen father and George could see the tears forming in his eyes. The boy fell to his knees beside the prone body, then looked back at George and the gun in his hand and the tears overflowed down the features of his youthful face. "You've killed him!", the young accusing voice said, an echo repeating the accusation several times. The boy looked back at his father and reached out. As he touched the body it began to glow, first faint, and then with an increasing blue intensity. "It wasn't me, Scott. I didn't fire", George shouted. "I didn't do it!"

George awakened, sweating profusely.

Wylie: (softly so as not to awaken Forrester and Scott) You didn't do what, sir?

Fox: (now awake) Ben, oh ... nothing.

In the moonlight Ben could see the perspiration on George's face and he could hear his rapid breathing.

Wylie: Another bad dream?

Fox: Yeah.

Wylie: Can I do anything for you?

Fox: No. I'll be alright. Go back to sleep.

As Ben lay back down, George looked across the hut and saw Paul and Scott sleeping peacefully on their palm mat on the floor. Although George's advice to Ben was good, George was not to enjoy it for a couple of hours.

########################################

With understanding came a relaxation of tension and soon the conversations between Paul and George turned into a regular discussion among all of them. Every evening after their meal they would sit by the camp fire and talk, mostly about Paul's life. George and Ben would question Paul and Scott about their life on the road and then Paul and Scott would drill George and Ben about the years of pursuit from their point of view. Mostly they just lived from day to day, continuing to try to understand one another.

In the daytime, Scott and Wylie would fish and Paul and George would hunt for food. Scott now carried his father's camera everywhere with him and enjoyed catching everyone in totally upstaged situations. He became the Allen Funt of Lost Island with his candid camera. Paul reciprocated with shots of Wylie and Scott out fishing and set up the camera for occasional group shots. Scott was just approaching with the camera.

Fox: Duck everyone! Looks like the kid's following in his father's footsteps!

The words were no more out of his mouth when George realized he was beginning to look at the alien as the real Paul Forrester, photojournalist.

George was more than casually familiar with Paul Forrester's life because since confirmation that the alien had returned and had assumed the identity of Paul Forrester, he had taken the time to read, watch and listen to almost everything that the real Forrester had done in his photographic career. For several moments he thought and compared the two personalities; the cynical, talented, adventurer and the seemingly, gentle, concerned and thoughtful visitor.

George was brought back to reality when the camera shutter clicked, catching him deep in thought.

Paul took the time to warn Scott that if he weren't a little more conservative with the film, that it would run out. They only had eight rolls.

########################################

Almost a month had passed. Everyone had fallen asleep this evening, except for George. He was wide awake suffering from one of his now only occasional headaches. He quietly got up and awakened Paul by gently shaking his arm.

Fox: (whispering) Paul.

Paul: (opens his eyes) What?

Fox: Paul, help me.

Paul: What's wrong?

Fox: My head ... damn migraine again. Would you take care of it for me?

Paul sat up and told George to sit down in front of him so he could massage his back. He put his fingers on George's temples, feeling the pain from the headache, and though not as severe as the one George had had up on the ledge, it was a pain with which Paul could sympathize. He began massaging George's neck, shoulders and back and felt George relaxing beneath his touch. Paul touched his fingers back to George's temples and could feel the pain greatly diminishing. He continued to massage until his touch no longer felt the pain.

Paul: All right now?

Fox: (nodding) Yeah. How do you do that?

Paul: Let's go outside. I don't want wake up my son or Ben.

They went outside and a distance from the hut.

Paul: Never mind how I do it. Have you had that pain often?

Fox: Like I've said before, I've had migraines ever since I can remember. Every time the stress gets to be too much and problems pile up, bang, a migraine. It hurts so bad a doctor gave me special medication. Ordinary aspirin won't even touch it. You ever had one? A headache I mean?

Paul: Yes, once, in Seattle. I thought it was from eating the doughnuts.

Fox: Doughnuts?

Paul: Yes, it came after I'd eaten some doughnuts, but Liz Baines told me it was a hangover from gin and tonic.

Fox: Then you do have some idea how it feels.

Paul: I can feel your pain, George. It is very uncomfortable.

Fox: Uncomfortable! That's an understatement! This is just a minor one, but you saw what they can do to me the day you saved my life up on the ledge. I get dizzy spells; light, sounds, it's murder for me. Sometimes death would be preferable.

Paul: NO! (his eyebrows raising in alarm) There has to be some other way!

Fox: Take it easy, Paul. I don't want to die. It's just, well imagine the light hurting your eyes until your brain wants to scream, every sound becomes an unbearable roar, you wish you were blind and deaf when you get one and you ask yourself, why me?

Paul: I don't know why. What brought this one on?

Fox: (lets out a grump) I can't take it any longer, Paul. We've been stuck here for months now. Not one damn plane has gone over. Not one fishing or pleasure boat has come near enough to see for sure! No one! We can't be that far off course away from the Hawaiian islands. I want to get off of here! I want to go home to my nice cozy apartment; watch TV, listen to traffic, which I used to hate, stand in line with a dozen other people, which I used to hate too, anything but stay here! They call this paradise. They're wrong. This is hell!

Paul: Oh, I don't know. It's not so bad. I can do without all that city noise. It's peaceful here, like in space, just nature and you. No high pressure, just plain, simple, basic survival. ... Life.

Fox: Huh. That figures, you like it here. Well, I don't. I wasn't born to be a primitive Amazon Indian. Give me back the 20th century with TV's and radios, cars and buses, telephones, dishwashers, toilets, faucets, bathtubs, indoor plumbing, supermarkets and department stores. Forget all this.

Paul let out a long sigh and looked at George. He was truly unhappy and that was causing him to have headaches when he should have been relaxing.

Paul: Do you really want to go back, George?

Fox: Yeah, I really miss the bustle, the mobs and the lines.

Paul: I can probably get us out of here if that's what you're sure you really want.

Fox: You can?

Paul: Yes. If you'll give me back one of the spheres, I'll send out a distress message that someone will surely answer.

Fox: I can't give you the spheres.

Paul: (sadly) After all we've been through George, you still don't trust me.

Fox: No, that's not it.

Paul: Well then, what is it?

Fox: I ... don't have 'em. ... When Ben and I picked you and Scott up at the Sheriff's office, I mailed them to my office back in Washington. I was afraid that you'd get your hands on 'em somehow and escape again like you did so many times before. I didn't want you to get the chance. They're in my office desk in D.C. When you asked for one after I shot you, I told Wylie not to tell you we didn't have 'em. I figured they'd be good bait for my test. I had totally forgotten about them. If I'd only known then what was going to happen.

Paul: I wondered why you never mentioned them. Well, I guess that takes care of that option. I guess your hindsight is better than your foresight.

Fox: What were you planning to do, if I may ask?

Paul: There are quite a few ways. I could have created a large ring of blue lights that would have been visible for hundreds of miles. That might have gotten some attention.

Fox: Like in California! We _did_ see those lights then! We weren't imagining them.

Paul: No George, if you were nearby you saw them.

Fox: You knew I was coming for you that time too, didn't you?

Paul: Yes, the deputy told me.

Fox: But you were already out of the jail if you had your sphere back then. Why did you create the lights? You must've known I'd see them.

Paul: For the deputy. Scott had been fooling around with his sphere and accidentally created some of the lights and the deputy saw them. The people in town were laughing at him because no one else had seen what he had.

Fox: But when I got there, the entire town denied seeing anything. I wonder why?

Paul: I didn't know that. (smiling) I'm sure they probably had a good reason. Maybe they wanted to protect him or themselves from trying to explain.

Fox: The lights would draw attention to us, but wouldn't they also draw attention to you? They did look kinda out of this world.

Paul: Would it make a difference? I guess we could deny seeing them too.

Fox: (smiling) I guess we could at that. But what other ways?

Paul: I said I could have sent a distress signal. I could have beamed it off one of your satellites or sent the sphere into the air to give a radar echo. I'm sure that would've brought some planes over and then we could have set the signal fires.

Fox: Paul, why didn't you mention this before?

Paul: George, since we've ironed out some of our differences, I've been content to be here. I told you before; I haven't been looking forward to leaving here to go to those little rooms you promised us at the Sheriff's office. But without the spheres, there's no sense in dwelling on it any longer. There's another way to look at it you know.

Fox: Yeah, how?

Paul: We may not have the lines or the mobs, the TV's or the running water, but we also have no taxes, no bills, money or junk mail ... just living.

Fox: (with a short laugh) Y'know, you may be right there. I hadn't thought of it that way before.

Paul: Let's go back to sleep now, okay?

Fox: Paul?

Paul: Yes?

Fox: (thoughtfully) Then you don't want to get off this island? What about finding Jenny?

Paul: Of course I'd like to get off here and find her, but since you're here with me, I'm sure she's having some peace in her life too. I'd prefer to be with her, but if being apart brings each of us some peace, so be it. The thing I do regret is that she doesn't know that we're safe. She's still looking for us too. George, I don't ever want to take Scott or Jenny back to a Building 11.

Fox: Paul, I do want you to know that I'll do my very best to make sure that you and your family never go back to Building 11.

Paul: Thank you. Then you believe that we're not a threat to your world?

Fox: Yes, I believe. Paul, one more question.

Paul: Okay, but this is the last. I want to go back to sleep.

Fox: (hesitatingly) Would you really have used the sphere to get us out of here, just for me; even if you knew that I meant to take you back?

Paul: Yes. (with a widening smile) I guess after we got back to civilization, Scott and I would have had to take the chance that you wouldn't try to hold us.

Fox: Oh. You would have trusted me that much?

Paul: I guess I would eventually have had to test you, George.

Paul was silent for a minute allowing George time to think about what had been said.

Paul: Of course, you have to remember, I would have had one of the spheres then.

Fox: I guess you're right there.

Paul: Still ... I would rather not have to test.

A very subdued and thoughtful look came over George's face as he thought about the things that he'd learned about the alien since the incident up on the cliff. His feeling of guilt was returning. Paul saw it in his face and gently touched him on the temple again.

Paul: But now George, there's no use worrying about it and bringing your headache back. Rescue will come someday, and we'll be ready when it does. But after I find Jenny I'd like to find somewhere as peaceful as this where we can be a family and no one will bother us.

Fox: Why not buy the island if you love it so much.

Paul: Can I? Is there a way to do it?

Fox: Probably ... yeah, twentieth century item, money. Who knows, maybe you can stake a squatters claim.

Paul: I've heard about that.

Fox: Let's go back to sleep. Thanks for curing my headache.

Paul: You're welcome. Goodnight.

Fox: You too.

Paul got up and went back to the hut, leaving George still sitting on the beach alone with his thoughts. Dawn would be breaking in a couple of hours.

########################################

It had been a week since George had had his headache and confessed to Paul his extreme unhappiness at being marooned. During the week, he had become more and more irritable, angry, argumentative and downright unpleasant to be around. Scott and Wylie both began to avoid him. Today the cycle was repeating itself.

George walked off into the jungle to be alone and think. Aside from food gathering every morning, there wasn't a whole lot else to do. George hated this idleness. Paul followed him quietly and watched out of sight, as George sat on a rock, broke a twig into little pieces and tossed the remnants every few seconds. Paul decided it was time for another talk with the FSA agent.

Paul: (from behind) What's the matter, George?

Fox: (flying to the ground, turns and faces Paul in combat ready stance) Jesus! Don't sneak up on me like that! You want your head knocked off?

Paul: No. That was not my first choice for a way to start this beautiful morning.

Fox: (calmer) What do you want?

Paul: I came to see if I could help and maybe offer you a little company.

Fox: (with slight anger) What're you, my psychiatrist?

Paul: (gently) I came to help. Something's obviously troubling you. Don't turn me away.

Fox: (still with anger) Okay, you wanna know what's buggin' me? The same damn thing we talked about last week! I don't like it here! I wanna get off this Goddamn island! Let's see you help me now!

Paul: Is that why you yelled at my son this morning and called him what you did?

Fox: (letting out a long groaning sigh) Yes.

Paul: I think you owe Scott an apology.

Fox: Sometimes I forget when I get angry and say things I shouldn't. ... I'm sorry Paul.

Paul: Fine, but don't say it to me, say it to Scott. He was _very_ hurt when you called him an alien half-breed. He doesn't even like _me_ to use that term, not even in jest. It's tough enough for him, in addition to being a teenager, to accept who and what he is without it being used like a dirty remark to remind him of it. And what about me? Do you still think of _me_ as a damned alien?

Fox: (once again in anger) What did you come up here for? To lay a guilt trip on me and dole out lectures?

Paul: No. (pause, then softly) So you still do.

Fox: Still do what?

Paul: Think of me as not human, as something alien.

Fox: Sometimes, yes. (softly now) But most of the time, no, I don't. Look, I'll apologize to Scott.

Paul: Okay. (pause) George, ... let's go get some firewood.

Fox: What for?

Paul: Well, we need it and it'll give you something to do besides thinking about being stuck here.

Fox: (quieter) Okay, why not.

They walked together collecting random pieces of dry wood. Paul was sorry he couldn't help George. He began thinking about the problem and came up with a suggestion that, if George agreed, would also give him something to do.

Paul: George?

Fox: Yeah, what?

Paul: I have a solution to your problem.

Fox: You do? Paul: Yes. I do. (pause) Listen, if you're so unhappy and want to leave here so bad, then why not do something about it?

Fox: Yeah, like what?

Paul: Easy. Since waiting for rescue isn't doing us any good, it's obvious that we must find a way to get ourselves off. How would you feel about building a boat of some kind?

Fox: Are you kidding? You bet I would! Sounds great if everyone else will go along with the idea.

Paul: Let's go ask them.

They walked back to camp, firewood in hand. Paul noticed that George seemed to be immediately happier.

Scott: (while cleaning fish with Wylie) Uh oh, here comes ole 'grouchy' with Dad. I'm gonna take a walk. I'm not getting chewed out again.

Wylie: You know he didn't mean it, Scott. You know he has a temper.

Scott: I don't care! (stands up) I've had enough! I'm not Scott to him! I'm not even a kid! I'm that damned alien half-breed!

Paul sees Scott standing ready to leave, shouts.

Paul: Scott, wait!

Scott stopped short and turned to face his father.

Paul: Scott, Wylie, ... George and I want to discuss something with both of you.

Scott: (with anger) Fine, you can tell me everything later! I'm not stickin' around ole 'grouchy' here one more second!

Paul: (also in anger) Scott! That's enough! Sit down, now!

Scott sat down in total surprise at his father's anger.

Paul: Now I want you to apologize to George for that remark.

Scott: Apologize! I'm not apologizing to him 'til he apologizes to me first! He had no right to chew me out at breakfast this morning! I didn't do anything except serve him the bananas. It's not my fault we don't have pancakes 'n syrup, that we're stuck with this stuff. You think I enjoy eating bananas, papayas and coconuts and fish everyday! This ain't McDonalds y'know. And he didn't have to call me a damn alien half-breed!

Paul started to speak, but George put a hand on Paul's arm and silently told him that it was alright.

Fox: (gently) Yes, I know Scott, and I'm sorry I snapped at you. I know you didn't do anything wrong and I apologize if I hurt you.

Scott: Well, _that_ doesn't make me feel any better! You meant exactly what you said!

Fox: (attempting to lighten the mood with humor) Strictly speaking, you are one you know. Well not a damn ...

Scott's face changed and his eyes told George of their fury.

Fox: (immediately realizing he had made a mistake) Okay, I'm sorry! I really _am_ sorry! I shouldn't have said what I did. I just woke up in a foul mood this morning.

Scott: Not just this morning. It's been the whole darn week!

Fox: You're right. I have no right to corner the market on being cranky. You really are a good kid and I apologize. Please, forgive me.

There was nothing but silence. Scott still was not ready to forgive and forget so easily. Paul saw it in his son's face.

Paul: (firmly) Scott!

Scott: But Dad, he did mean it and he is a grouch!

Paul: Scott, if you don't forgive him, then who's the grouch?

Scott thought about it for a moment and Paul could see the anger in Scott's face subside.

Scott: Okay, I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have called you a grouch.

Fox: You had a right to. I was one. (pause then meekly) Friends again?

Scott: Yeah, I guess so.

Paul: Good. Now that that's settled, we can have a discussion on another matter.

Wylie: What's that?

Paul: Well, we all know waiting for rescue isn't getting us anywhere, agreed? (they nod) I've noticed how unhappy George is being marooned here and I've seen signs in of it in you, Ben and even you, Scott. You all want to leave here. Am I right? (again nods from all) Well then, if we don't want to wait anymore, George and I thought about building a boat of some kind. What do you think?

Wylie: I think you're right. We can't wait for rescue forever. I'm sure it's a fact they aren't searching for us anymore and haven't been for months. We've already been declared missing and presumed dead. It is up to us to get off here. We should've been thinking about this months ago instead of waiting.

Paul: Scott?

Scott: Yeah, I wanna get off here too.

Paul: Okay then, it's settled. We'll get ourselves off. Now, what kind of boat are we going to build?

Wylie: Well, whatever we build, it's gotta be seaworthy.

Paul: Yes, I think we're all agreed on that point. (everyone nod)

Fox: How about a raft of logs lashed together, or bamboo?

Wylie: I wouldn't.

Fox: Oh? (a bit sarcastically) And why not?

Wylie: Too much risk it could fall apart in rough water. Do 'ya feel like swimmin' to Hawaii if it breaks up?

Paul: He's right, George. A raft would not be good. I think it would also be too hard to steer. I've been watching the winds around here and the course we have to follow will take us partially across that wind. Our craft has to be easy to steer. It also has to be easy to move with our own power.

Fox: So what'll we build?

Paul: It would take a lot more work than building a raft, but I was thinking of something more like those boats the native Hawaiians use.

Wylie: You mean an outrigger canoe?

Paul: Yes. We saw some on the beach when we came to the islands. They seem very durable.

Scott: They are Dad.

Paul: Are we agreed then?

They all agreed with the exception of George, who was hesitant at first.

Fox: You know how long it's gonna take to hollow out a log for a canoe? We could build a raft ten times faster.

Wylie: Yes, but I'd rather get to Hawaii safely. A raft will do us no good if it comes apart or if we're unable to get it to go where we want it to. You do want to get to Hawaii safely, don't you?

Fox: Yes, but it's just gonna take so long.

Wylie: And the sooner we start, the faster we get off, so quit 'yer complainin'.

George sat there looking a bit flustered.

Wylie: I'll have these fish ready in about half an hour if you wanna start lookin' for a tree to cut.

Paul: I think we can wait until we've all eaten.

George looked at Paul with that "aw, c'mon, let's go now" look, but backed off. George ate his fish and share of fruit so fast he almost choked on it he was so anxious to get started.

The four of them went into the jungle, George carrying the ax, to select a tree which would become their boat. Even that would not be an easy task as George found out.

Fox: (to Paul) What about this one? (pointing to a medium size tree)

Paul: No. It's too short. We need one long enough for four and at least several feet to spare.

Fox: At the rate you're going, you're gonna survey every tree in this damn jungle!

Wylie: Mr. Fox?

Fox: What?

Wylie: Shut up and let Paul pick the tree.

George complied, but not happily. It took almost another hour before Paul finally settled on a fine Ohia tree more than sixty feet long. Sunset was upon them by then and all they had time to do was 'mark' the tree. Naturally, George wanted to keep chopping, but Paul convinced him to call it a day.

The next morning Paul had a tough time controlling George's impatience. He insisted George come along and help him collect coconuts first as they would probably be too tired to get them afterwards.

Fox: We're outta coconuts again.

Paul: Who's comin' with me?

Wylie: I'll go with you.

Paul nodded and he and Wylie stood up. Paul walked up to George, stopped in front of him and extended his hand.

Fox: (looks up) What?

Paul: The chain … for my legs. I can't climb the trees without them.

Fox: Oh right. (looks to Wylie) I'll go with Paul. We should be back soon.

Wylie nodded and sat back down beside Scott.

Wylie: (as usual, shouts as they walk off) Be careful!

Paul: (answering with shout) I will.

Scott turned to Ben as George and Paul walked off down the beach.

Scott: Ben, I haven't taken any pictures of Dad in the coconut trees yet. Wanna do that before we leave the island? Shall we walk out there?

Wylie: Why not. Gotta bank the fire first though. Should be just a couple minutes.

Scott: Okay, I'll go get the camera.

George and Paul reached the coconut grove and Paul sat down next to the one he intended to climb first. He reached his hand out to George.

Paul: The chain.

Fox: (as he hands it to Paul and watches as he calmly fastens it around his ankles) How can you do that?

Paul: Easy ... just put them on.

Fox: No. That's not what I mean. I mean ... how can you put those things on? Don't you resent them?

Paul: (with comprehension, takes a breath) When I was a prisoner, yes, I resented them. They reminded me of my lost freedom, but now it's okay.

Fox: How can you feel that way?

Paul: Because now they're just a tool. I told you, I can't climb without them. I know when I'm done they'll come off. That is unless you somehow lose the key. You got the shoelace?

George teased Paul with a look of sudden concern when he reached into his pocket, pretending he had lost the key, then smiled and burst into laughter as Paul truly believed his joke.

George: Got 'ya!

Paul looked up and was not smiling, in fact he looked alarmed and a little angry. Then when George pulled out the key to reassure him, he slowly joined along in the laughter.

Paul: (a smile still on his face) Don't do that again. (smile fades to seriousness) I don't like practical jokes. Sometimes practical jokes hurt people. I think I've been hurt enough already.

Fox: Sorry. Gee, you take all the fun out of it. Can't someone have a little fun with you, or can't you take a joke?

Paul: I can take a joke just fine. I just don't like being reminded of a bad memory. Can I have the shoelace now?

Fox: (dejectedly) Here. I am sorry you know.

Paul: (long pause, then quietly) I know.

Fox: You had to admit I had you going though.

Paul stood up, hopped to face the tree trunk and looked at George's face before starting up.

Paul: (to ease George's deflated conscience, smiles) Yes, you did. You know that means I owe you one now.

Fox: You owe me one! That'll be the day.

Paul: Do you think I don't know any jokes?

Fox: Well, do you?

Paul: Yes, I do. Scott's been teaching me about humor. (smiles) He says I'm a good student too.

Fox: Uh oh. I think I'm in for it now.

Paul was laughing as he started up the tree. After knocking down all the ripe fruit and climbing two more trees, he was at the top of the third one.

Paul: (shouting down to George below) That's the last one! I'm coming down!

Fox: Okay, just be careful! I don't want to see you get hurt in a fall from up there!

Paul smiled at George's concern. It was remarkable how George seemed to change after their discussions.

Ben and Scott walked over to where George had piled the coconuts and started picking them up to help carry them back to camp. Paul had just come down from the tree.

Fox: Thought you guys were staying back in camp.

Scott: Just thought we'd give you a hand carrying the nuts back. It's too early to go fishing yet.

Fox: Thanks, it looks like we need the extra. I think your Dad wanted to get a whole weeks supply this time.

Paul: Thought that was what you'd want George. Then we could really get into building the boat.

They all returned to camp with the coconuts and then Paul and George proceeded to the tree they selected for the canoe. Paul watched as George swung the ax with a determination he'd never seen before, but soon he tired out and Paul took over. Scott and Ben arrived from fruit gathering just in time to see the great tree fall.

Fox: So what do we do now, pick it up and bring it back to the beach?

Wylie: Are you kidding? That's gotta weigh more than a ton!

Scott: Yeah, maybe two.

Paul: You're both right. It's much too heavy to lift, even with all of us. We can do the rough hollowing out and shaping here, and then we'll carry it to the beach to do the finish work.

Fox: Okay, let's get started.

The four of them began marking off what part was to be hollowed out and what was to be left on or reshaped. With the unusable portion also removed, their 'canoe' looked to be at least thirty five feet long. About an hour passed and Ben departed to go fishing for their daily meal. Scott volunteered to run some water up the site for George and his father while they kept working on the canoe. When Scott had returned, both men were grateful for a rest.

Paul: (after taking a huge swallow) Thanks Scott.

Scott: (offering some to George) Mr. Fox?

Fox: No thanks.

Paul: C'mon George, take a rest. You're not going to finish this in one day.

Fox: (putting down the ax and taking the cup of water) I guess you're right. Thanks Scott.

After the drink, George gave the cup back to Scott and felt pain in his hands. He looked at them. There were a couple of good sized blisters on both of his hands. Paul noticed.

Paul: That's what you get when you try to do too much. C'mon, maybe Wylie will know what to do for them. I think we can call it quits for today. And Ben's probably got our meal ready.

Fox: But ... it's still light out.

Paul: Patience George. Tomorrow's another day. I'd like a rest myself and maybe take a nice swim or a hot bath. I'll bet your muscles are just as tired as mine are.

Fox: Yeah, and they're sore too.

Paul: C'mon then, let's go.

########################################

And so the days went. Ben would help hollowing out the canoe in the morning with Scott while George and Paul gathered food or picked coconuts. Paul and George would take over in the afternoon. Ben was teaching Scott how to spear fish, but on many occasions, Scott would help George and his father on the canoe. Scott always preferred to go with Ben, but Paul had told him that he needed to learn how to get along with George and that meant working with him, shoulder to shoulder. Scott found it easier now that George was fully occupied and at times had even indicated to his father that he enjoyed talking with the feisty little agent.

########################################

It was now the middle of the fourth week, around noon, and all of them were at the canoe site. Paul informed them that there wasn't much more they could do here and it was time to bring the canoe down to the beach. All four of them hoisted the log up onto their shoulders, Paul getting under last so as not to further damage his bullet torn shoulder, which Ben warned could still happen. Paul did not want to tear the damaged muscles and so heeded Ben's instructions. They started back to the beach, Ben in the lead, followed by Paul, Scott and then George, going in descending order of height. It was slow going as the canoe still weighed several hundred pounds. By the time they reached the beach and put down their burden, that was considered enough for that day.

########################################

The finish work took another two weeks and consisted of finding and attaching an outrigger and hand-crafting paddles for everyone, including extras in case of breakage or loss. George also came up with a design for a paddle that would be attached to the rear of the craft to be used as a rudder. He figured Paul could use that paddle occasionally to make any course corrections as might be required. George devised a way it could be 'fixed' in position after each correction. They overcame the problem of attaching the outrigger by using wire and parts salvaged from the helicopter wreck.

It was during the last week when they were eating, that George presented another question.

Fox: Y'know, we still have one problem.

Wylie: What's that?

Fox: We're still not sure exactly which way it is to Hawaii.

Paul smiled and laughed softly. George, Ben and Scott looked at him.

Paul: I know which way it is.

Fox: You do?

Paul: Certainly.

Fox: Well?

Paul: I've got a better question. Which way do you think it is?

George pointed straight out from camp, indicating west.

Paul: And you Ben?

Ben agreed with George and Paul asked his son.

Scott: (thinking for a moment) I dunno. (guesses pointing south)

Paul looked a bit disappointed.

Paul: Well, you're all wrong. (points east southeast) Hawaii is that way.

Fox: Are you sure? I still think it's that way. (points again toward west)

Wylie: Yeah, how do you know where Hawaii is when the pilot even got lost?

Paul: (laughing again) Have you forgotten that I am a pilot myself and a celestial navigator? I mapped galaxies by profession. This is what you'd call a 'piece of cake'. (pause) I paid attention to the position of the stars on Hawaii. Calculating the approximate angle differential from our present position...

Fox: Okay, I believe you! Stop with the technical jargon. You've lost me already.

Paul smiled at him.

Fox: Just tell me one thing if you can.

Paul: What?

Fox: How far away is it?

Paul sat there running the calculations through his mind, then ...

Paul: I can't give you the exact number of miles, but I can tell you approximately ...

Fox: Just tell us, okay.

Paul: (taking a deep breath, sees George's impatience returning) You won't like it.

Scott: C'mon Dad, quit teasing!

Wylie: How far?

Paul: Converting it to miles, more than one hundred and eighty.

Fox: (nearly blowing a gasket) A hundred and eighty miles!

Paul: To be more accurate, I would estimate one hundred and eighty eight. Of course, that would be all the way back to the southerly end of the island, where you picked us up.

George let out a groan as did Ben and Scott.

Paul: What's the matter? All I said was ...

Scott: We _know_ what you said, we _**know**_.

Paul: You all still want to go back, don't you?

Fox: Yes, but paddling a hundred and eighty miles … it'll take us days.

Paul: About five going at a leisurely pace, not racing. I figure we can get at least forty miles a day.

Fox: Oh is _that_ all?

Paul: George, you don't have to paddle all by yourself. We'll all be paddling. We can work in two's, switching every hour. And you three can at least catch some sleep while we're out there, I can't.

Wylie: Why not?

Paul: Because I have to navigate and make sure we don't go off course or we could be paddling a lot further if we miss. Even once we sight land, I have to make corrections to keep us on course or the ocean currents will take us right past. I can't sleep and steer the rudder at the same time.

Wylie: Yeah, I guess you do have the toughest job. Well Paul, for whatever it's worth, I trust you.

Scott: Me too.

Fox: I guess I do too.

########################################

Three days had passed and now it was the next to the last day they were to spend on this island. Everyone had collected as much fruit as they could find and the boat could hold. All the supplies were packed and on board. Paul and George were walking along the beach, talking.

Paul: George? May I ask you a personal question?

Fox: That depends on what the question is, go ahead, ask.

Paul: How did you come to join the FSA?

There was silence.

Paul: If you don't want to answer, I'll understand.

Fox: No, I don't mind, but are you sure you want to hear it all? There's quite a long story that goes with your question.

Paul: Yes, I would like to hear it.

Fox: (takes a deep breath before he begins) Okay. It all started many years ago because of my brother. He was 21 and I was 17. Well, we went on a deer hunt. It was my first deer hunt. We spotted a big ten point buck and this was supposed to be my turn. Well, I took aim and shot it, but I screwed it up. It wasn't a clean kill. I just wounded it. Ken and I tracked it and found it lying on the ground not far away, paralyzed. I knew I had to finish the animal off. I couldn't leave it to suffer in pain like that, but when it picked up and turned its head and looked at me with those eyes, I ...

Paul: You what?

Fox: (choking back a lump in his throat) I couldn't do it. I just couldn't shoot it again. Ken had to finish it off. I turned and ran all the way home. I've never hunted deer again. That night at supper my big brother laughed at me and called me a sissy in front of my Mom and Dad. My dad agreed. Well, I was so angry and ashamed that I left the table and went outside and waited for Ken to come out. When he did, I told him I'd show him who's a sissy and I punched him square in the face. Broke three of his front teeth too. You can imagine what happened next. Dad came out and dragged me into the shed in back of the house, took off his belt and whipped me until he almost paralyzed me. Then he grounded me for the rest of the school year. I never spoke to my brother or my father ever again. I packed all my stuff and moved out that day.

Paul: That's terrible.

Fox: That's not the end of it though. You want me to go on?

Paul: Please.

Fox: Well, after I left home, my Mom got after Dad and Ken for callin' me a sissy and blamed them for my leaving. I used to write my mother letters so she'd know where to write me back.

Paul: What about your brother and your father?

Fox: (laughs) You could say Dad disowned me and Ken, well, I'm getting to that part. Needless to say, neither one wrote to me or ever wanted to hear from me, so I just said "To hell with 'em", but Mom, I loved Mom. Anyway, she told me Ken went off and joined the Marines. It was 1968, Vietnam, the war, and big brother was gonna prove to the family what a big macho guy he was, not a sissy like me. Well, his unit got called to go off to the war and Ken, that big stupid brother of mine ... (takes a shaky breath)

Paul remained silent, seeing that this was getting emotional for George.

... they landed in the jungle and on his first day there he was killed by the VC. (looks at Paul) The Viet Cong.

Paul: Yes, I know. I read about it.

Fox: Ken never even got to fire one shot. Mom told me he was one of the first ones killed from his unit. Dad went downhill after that. I went to Ken's funeral, but Dad looked at me like I was a bastard and it was my fault this had happened to his best son. I paid my respects to my brother, turned and left without a word to either Mom or Dad. Mom tried to come after me, but Dad stopped her.

Paul: Why?

Fox: As I was leaving I heard him tell my Mom that he didn't think I was his son, that I was the bastard of the family, the damn accident that he accepted for her! Those words hurt me more than anything he could have physically done to me, but they explained why he treated me different than he did Ken. Mom told me later that it wasn't true. I was his son, but because I was different, he didn't want to accept the truth. Anyway, he died a few months later. I went to that funeral too, but I didn't feel sorry at all. It shames me to say this, but I hated my father. I helped Mom out as best as I could until she died not long ago. So now I'm the only one left. I lied about my age and enlisted in the Army. During Nam I got into intelligence work with the Army and when I got out in four years managed to land a civil service job. I went from one position to another, always climbing to positions of higher responsibility. I continued to take classes and with the intelligence background, built up my security rating and then was offered a job with the FSA. I worked my GS rating to what it is now, special agent.

Paul: (quietly with great sadness) I'm sorry. Sometimes I think I'll never understand humans.

Fox: Why do you say that?

Paul: For your father to, beat you ... and to blame you for being different, not wanting to kill ... and then not to call you his son ... I could never do that. (pause) It's ironic how this turned out like your story ... and the deer.

Fox: What did?

Paul: Well, when you looked into my eyes ...

Fox: Yes, I see.

Paul: Now I think I can understand something I didn't understand before.

Fox: What was that?

Paul: I think I understand your driving force behind your obsession to succeed ... to complete the job you had been assigned. Your superiors were probably like your father and your brother. They laughed and teased you about your search for me and that hurt you, didn't it?

Fox: (sadly) Yes.

Paul: They're the ones who 're wrong. Your mother was the only one who saw the real you. I think she was proud of you then and I think she'd be proud of you today.

Fox: I don't think she would be if she knew what I've been doing to you and Scott, ... for being different.

Paul: You have acted as your conscience has directed, your mistake was in not having tried to analyze all the facts first. There still is one thing George, that I don't understand.

Fox: What?

Paul: You couldn't kill that poor deer to end its pain and suffering, but in your present job, instead of hunting deer, you now hunt men. You shot me and were going to shoot my son without a moment's hesitation. A couple inches more and you would have killed me. You threatened to kill both of us a number of times.

Fox: You have to remember Paul, to me you weren't a man. I felt you and your son were a threat to all other men ... to our world. And I guess in my mind, to the deer also. I guess that's why this job was so important to me.

Paul: But you made that life or death judgment before you ever saw or talked to me.

Fox: Yes, and I shouldn't have. I was wrong. It's a lesson I won't easily forget.

Paul: I hope not. I don't want you to repeat it either.

Both men smiled and laughed as they walked.

Paul: You know George, if you were my son, I'd be proud of you too. You're a good friend, really. Maybe a bit stubborn, short tempered at times and set in your ways, but ...

Fox: Thanks Paul. I guess I could use a little TLC.

Paul: Well, you're welcome. What is TLC?

Fox: (laughs once) TLC is tender loving care. ... Paul?

Paul: Yes?

Fox: There's something I'd like to know.

Paul: Like what?

Fox: Well, I never asked you about it before, but what were you doing in Hawaii?

Paul: I guess I can tell you now. We were here to meet Liz Baines. She wanted to see us again. She's worked on lining up jobs for me when things got tough.

Fox: Liz Baines ... so she has been helping you all along! I knew it!

Paul: Yes, she has. If it weren't for her helping us, Scott and I would probably be finished off in one of your labs by now. We would've had to take too many chances to get the money to get by on. (pause) We were south of San Francisco. She had found me a part-time magazine job and Scott was in school. It didn't pay too well, but we could make it. One afternoon I was in a fast food restaurant for lunch and saw someone watching me. Something told me to run for it. I couldn't tell for sure if he tried to follow me, but I made sure that he couldn't. I picked up our stuff and Scott and I took off again. I didn't even have time to collect my pay, so I called Liz to see if she could arrange something for me in the San Francisco area. She talked me into coming to Hawaii.

Fox: Were you in San Luis Obispo?

Paul: (surprised) Yes!

Fox: Ah ha, then I was right, you were heading north again.

Paul: No, I was heading anywhere I could get a job. (puzzled) But what do you mean you were right?

Fox: You were smart to run. That was one of our operatives. Actually, when the word came in that you were in Hawaii, it upset me because I figured that I might have been wrong. We'd have been looking for you in San Francisco. You blew my theory to hell.

Paul: But we could have gone any way. Why did you think San Francisco? And what theory?

Fox: Because Paul, you were doing a very human thing. You were developing a pattern to your moves. I've kept a map in my office since you came back showing all our possible sightings of you and Scott, actual encounters and the distances you usually went between. The map and my theory definitely indicated that you would be heading north, and the distance indicated the San Francisco or Sacramento area. I was closing in on you.

Paul: And I thought we were moving randomly.

Fox: No, my friend, you were not. (laughing) Anyway, you must've known that if you were caught here, there'd be no escape.

Paul: Yes, I thought about that, but Scott seemed so excited about coming to Hawaii ... he wanted to see the islands so bad ... I just couldn't say no and disappoint him. And we both wanted to see Liz again. We were both so tired from running. We desperately needed a rest and thought you would never think to look for us here. We thought Hawaii would be safe. I took the chance and I lost.

Fox: How'd you end up getting arrested?

Paul: The Sheriff told me that someone signed a loitering complaint against me and he arrested me.

Fox: (laughing) Loitering!

Paul: Yes, I never did find out what loitering was.

Fox: It means to hang around without reason. What about Scott? Why did the Sheriff arrest him?

Paul: Scott tried to pull the Sheriff off of me, so he arrested him too. I guess they ran a computer check and ... well, you know the rest.

Fox: That Ms. Baines, she's a sneaky little devil.

Paul: She's not a devil. She's my friend! (showing increasing alarm) You're not going to do anything to her, are you?

Fox: No. Well maybe congratulate her on a job well done. She _did_ hide you from me and I never could prove anything against her. Believe me, that ain't easy. She's one smart woman.

Paul walked off in a different direction than back to camp.

Fox: Hey, where you goin'?

Paul: To the hot spring. My shoulder is aching.

Fox: Again? It was aching the other day too, wasn't it? Isn't that why you quit early?

Paul: Yes.

Fox: Why can't you heal it like you did my headaches?

Paul: Your headaches were simple tension. This is actual physical damage, so until I get my sphere back to repair the damage your bullet caused, it'll continue to hurt from time to time. It's aching right now. I think it's going to rain. The heat from the hot water seems to be the only thing that relieves that pain. I'll see you back at camp.

Fox: Paul? (as he turns) I'm sorry. I'm really sorry.

Paul: (quietly) I know.

Back at the camp as Scott saw George return alone...

Scott: Where's Dad?

Fox: He went to the hot spring. He said his shoulder hurts again.

Scott: (with concern) I hope he'll be alright to paddle tomorrow.

Wylie: Well, if not, we'll do it for him, Scott. Right George?

Fox: (without hesitation) Right.

It was about an hour before Paul came back. Everyone was in the hut in their respective sleeping places. They all looked at him as he walked through the doorway.

Scott: You okay, Dad?

Paul: (looks at George) I see you told them. Yes, it's better. (gets beside Scott) No talks tonight. I'd like to get a good night's sleep. I've got a long stretch comin' up starting in the morning. Goodnight everyone.

Fox and Wylie: Goodnight Paul.

Scott: G'night Dad.

########################################

It was around seven when they all arose. The clouds were rolling in and the wind was picking up. Paul had been right when he told George that it was going to rain and he asked them if they wanted to delay their departure by one more day. They all indicated that they wanted to get going and were more than willing to put up with a little wind and rain.

Paul: Okay then, let's do a last minute check that we've got everything and then we'll go.

They once again checked their provisions for the journey and their personal belongings and concluded that they were ready. Paul went off for one thing that he'd forgotten.

Paul: (returning, to Ben and George) Here, I think these are yours.

Fox: (taking the ammo clips and bullets for their guns) Gee, I'd forgotten all about these.

Wylie: Me too.

Fox: You trust us now?

Paul: I think of you now as friends. One doesn't need force among friends. You'd better put them away.

Fox: No place like where they belong.

George handed Ben his ammunition and then proceeded to load his own weapon. He then put it in the travel valise along with the handcuffs and other hardware.

Paul: We all ready now?

Scott: Yeah Dad; water, blankets, food, personal stuff, the ax and knife, and the paddles, all loaded.

Paul: Okay, let's go.

They picked up their outrigger canoe and gently let it down in about two feet of water. Paul and George took the first turns at paddling after everyone rowed to escape the breaking waves. Ben and Scott used their one drinking cup and an empty coconut shell to bail out any water coming in from the waves and rain.

They had been out for about an hour now and George realized just how strenuous this was going to be. Paul called out for the switch of duty.

Fox: Oh thank God! My arms are killing me!

Scott: We just got started, Mr. Fox. But every stroke brings us closer to Hawaii.

Fox: I think I'll be paralyzed by the time we get there, _if_ we get there.

Paul: (smiling) We'll get there George. Try to rest all you can.

The day melted into night and they continued. With a length of over thirty five feet and a width of almost two and a half, they all agreed that their boat handled like a champion, taking the worst the open waters had to throw at them with ease and by the time the thunderstorm had hit, they felt secure in the seaworthiness of their craft and proceeded like it was nothing out of the ordinary. As they finally passed through the storm front and the stars came out, Paul confirmed their location and announced that they were still on course and had gone around twenty five miles. They all had to agree that the smoother waters were a great improvement and their craft seemed to glide over the waves.

It was almost daylight of the third day and their muscles were responding to the conditioning. They now were able to paddle with less fatigue and sometimes any one of them or both would continue paddling even after the call to switch. They moved with a tireless determination. They were encouraged when Paul announced that they were still on course and seemed to be ahead of their estimated schedule. They had all been paddling, overlapping their shifts all night and were about ready to make their early morning changeover as dawn was breaking, when George, his eyes wide with excitement, pointed slightly off to their left and shouted.

Fox: Land ho! ... We did it! Paul, you're a saint!

Paul: We're not there yet, George! Most of the journey is still ahead. I would guess the visibility to be well over one hundred thirty miles.

Fox: I don't care! At least we know it's there! When we land, I'll either kiss the ground, or _**you**_!

George let out a yell of joy and Paul could only smile and laugh. He sincerely hoped George would not kiss him. He thought back to his first visit, when copying Jenny Hayden's gesture of thanks, he had kissed Mark Shermin. Paul wondered, knowing what he knew now of earth customs, what Mark Shermin and the many police officers had thought of his gesture. He contemplated upon the action this man, Shermin, had taken that had suddenly made him change his mind about letting him leave to rejoin his friends. Shermin was another person whom he would probably never see again who had helped him and expected nothing in return except trouble from George Fox.

Paul changed their course slightly and headed directly toward the now visible land then finally took a long overdue nap.

They paddled for the rest of the day and through the following night. By morning, boating activity associated with the islands became obvious around them, though not close enough to hail. Shortly after they had taken their noon meal, a large power sailing yacht, who, noticing the crew of three scraggly bearded men and a boy, using manpower to move their crude craft, approached, asking what they were doing so far out. When they explained that they were heading for the Big Island, they offered them assistance.

They were taken on board and the canoe was placed in tow. Their hosts, Roger and Marilyn Kincaid, they found out, were from Seattle and had just left Kailua Kona on the next leg of a journey that would take them around the world. They insisted on taking them back to port and set a course returning them directly to Kailua. The Kincaid's asked the four if there was anything they could get them from their galley.

Fox: (with a look of delight) A cup of coffee, please ... black.

Paul: Nothing thank you. Just having you stop and offer to help us is adequate.

Ben: A cup of coffee would be wonderful.

Scott: A chocolate milk shake?

Marilyn: (sadly) I think that's one of the only things we don't carry aboard. Sorry. How about some orange juice instead?

Scott: Okay, thanks. And thanks for helping us.

Marilyn: Our pleasure.

The Kincaid's were delightful people and extremely interested in what had landed them in their situation. The castaways had related that they had been going by helicopter from Hawaii to Oahu and crashed because of the weather, but did not volunteer the details. They described the island and their efforts to survive, their decision to build the canoe and their journey, to very eager ears.

Marilyn: You say you've been on a heading of East Southeast, after being marooned for nine months.

Fox: Yeah.

Marilyn: I've looked at the Hawaiian charts often enough and I certainly don't remember seeing any islands on the charts that sound anything like you describe until you get clear out to Midway. Are you sure that's the right direction?

Paul: That's the heading we've been following.

Roger: Are you sure you haven't strayed off course?

Paul: (with confidence) I don't think so.

Scott: If Dad says that's the course, believe it. Dad's an _excellent _navigator, right guys?

Fox and Ben: Top drawer!

Paul: (modestly) I have navigated some distances.

Fox: (with a chuckle) You better believe it.

Roger: Let's look at the chart.

They all went inside the cabin and Roger took out several charts, spreading them flat on the galley table. They all crowded around.

Roger: (after first checking his navigational equipment, points to a spot on the map) This is where we are right now, heading due East toward Kailua Kona. (pointing to another spot) ... and I would estimate this is where we picked you up. Reverse your course would be West Northwest, (moving his finger across the map) I'd guess that to be ... about one hundred fifty miles South of Oahu or slightly more from the leeward's. You see, there's nothing out there.

Fox: You mean we were only one hundred fifty miles from Oahu?

Roger: Yes.

Fox: (looking at Paul) And we've been heading for Hawaii ... a hundred and eighty eight miles?

Paul: George, I told you I could take you back to where Scott and I were camped. I didn't say it would be the shortest way. I'm not familiar with the Hawaiian Islands.

Fox: That's right, I remember. You did say that.

Roger: (with a perplexed look) Well, this sure is a mystery, but the fact remains that you are here and you have been somewhere. ...On an uninhabited island in the Hawaiian chain?

They talked further about life on the island as they headed toward port. Marilyn insisted that they eat with them before making port and prepared a feast fit for a king from the boat stores. As they entered the harbor, they brought the canoe alongside and navigated to a transient moorage, tying up long enough to off-load, then their benefactors waved goodbye to continue their journey of exploration.

Ben tied the canoe to the dock, but shortly a large crowd began to gather as word spread of their arrival from the sea in the rustic craft. The local reporter and cameraman from an Islands television station appeared on the scene. George took over as the leader and granted a very brief interview.

Reporter: Who are you and where have you come from?

Fox: I'm George Fox and this is Benjamin Wylie. That's Paul Forrester and his son, Scott.

Wylie: We crash landed on some uninhabited island (pointing) out that way about (looking at Paul) ... how long ago, Paul?

Paul: About nine months.

Reporter: You mean you've been stranded on an uninhabited island off the chain for the past nine months?

Fox: Yes, we have, but not anymore.

Reporter: ... and how long have you been out to sea?

Fox: This is our fourth day.

Reporter: Four days? You've been paddling that long?

Fox: Slightly more than four, actually. We were picked up by another boater early this afternoon. They brought us into port.

Reporter: (looking over their craft) You built this outrigger?

Fox: Yes. When no one found us after more than seven months, we got tired of waiting for rescue.

Reporter: I see. And how far would you judge this island to be?

Fox: ... too far.

As the reporter continues to shove his mike into George's face, getting in the way of their attempts to pick up their gear and head off the dock, George begins to get impatient. He picked up his bag and started to walk away. Paul, Scott and Ben followed his lead when the sound of sirens turned everyone's head as the police arrived at the marina.

Reporter: Just a few more questions, Mr. Fox.

Fox: (getting somewhat nervous) Please, not now. We need to find a place to stay. We'd like to take a hot shower; shave, get some decent clothes and then sleep for a week! Right guys?

Paul, Scott and Ben all answer 'yes' in unison.

The reporter wrapped up his interview and he and the cameraman returned to their van and transmitted the footage back to the station.

The Harbormaster, accompanied by two police officers, was coming down the gang walk toward them and graciously welcomed them to Kona, placing the traditional leis around their necks. Once again George took over negotiations. The Harbormaster advised them that they would not be allowed to leave the canoe at the moorage overnight since the slips had already been reserved. He told them that he was very sorry, but that he had made arrangements for its removal to the Harbor Patrol dock if they wished and that one of the officers would move it for them. They indicated that that would be just great. None of them at that moment desired to pick up a paddle for any reason whatsoever.

Soon the reporter approached George again at a run and George moved off to talk with him while the others were mobbed by the curious, the well wishers and the welcome homers. Shortly George returned.

The reporter followed him and once again persisted in asking questions and finally George cut him short.

Fox: We'll answer all your questions tomorrow, but right now we're all very tired, okay.

George took Paul, Scott and Ben aside and told them that it seemed the television station had proposed to let them use their local VIP condo and a car in exchange for their story. He explained that at first he had said 'no', not wanting to get involved with the media, but then agreed when the reporter had told him that it was the tourist season and that without a reservation in advance he could almost guarantee that they would be out of luck at getting accommodations.

The reporter then approached again and took them in tow. They got in the station van and stopped briefly at his office to pick up the condo keys and everyone got into a waiting car. He then took them to a new condominium complex about two blocks from the harbor, parked the car in the basement garage and accompanied them up to the apartment located on the fourth floor, handing George the keys. He left in the van that had accompanied them. George told him he would call the next day to arrange for the interview.

Their arrival from seaward made the 11:00 PM news and again in the morning.

########################################

George arose early the next morning, quickly dressed and told Ben to tell Paul and Scott, who were still sleeping soundly, that he had some business to attend to and that it might be some time before he got back. Ben asked if he wanted him to come along, but George said 'no', that he would handle it himself. He suggested that Ben should make sure that Paul had some clothes to wear.

When Paul and Scott awoke, Ben told them that George would be back later. The car keys were still on the dresser and after a brief discussion it was decided that they would take the car and go to the south of the island and look for the bags that Paul and Scott had left on the beach when they had been arrested. They exchanged a note telling George their plans for the car keys.

Scott was smiling as they left the apartment, carrying a small bag with him. They stopped at a large drugstore on the way. Paul gave Scott some money and Scott purchased a Hawaiian shirt and shorts for himself and his father. Paul was still wearing the loincloth and certainly did not want to be detained for any reason like indecent exposure. Dress in the Islands was casual, but a loincloth downtown he felt might be stretching it too far. George and Ben had decided the night before that they would all go shopping for some new clothes and whatever else they needed when George returned from his business or early in the afternoon. As Ben drove toward the south end of the island, Paul and Scott changed clothes.

When they got to the small town, they parked the car and hiked the mile north to find the two bags they had left there nine months earlier. Ben was extremely skeptical that they would still be there, but was taken aback when Paul and Scott produced them. Paul told Ben that he had hidden them extremely well. Ben shouldered the duffle bag and Scott, the knapsack, and they returned to the car, then drove back up the island, stopping once for lunch at a fast food restaurant and again, at Scott's request, at the drugstore. They went back to the condo hoping that George had returned. They were disappointed to find no one there and their note still sitting on the dresser.

########################################

George had been running in high gear all morning and was anxious to get back to the apartment. His business had taken longer than he expected, but now he was ready to take steps in his plans for Paul and Scott. He arrived at the entrance to the condominium complex.

As he walked toward the front door of the apartment building, a man approached him with a military police officer. George stared at the man, not immediately recognizing, without his official uniform, his Pentagon contact for renewal of funding for his special project . He reached out to shake hands.

Fox: General Wade, what a surprise. Didn't expect to see you. What are you doing here?

Wade: Vacation. First one the wife and I have had together in the past two years. Planned on it months ago.

Fox: And how is Susan?

Wade: Fine ... saw you on TV this morning, Fox. Susan told me she saw you last night and would have told me, but I'd already turned in. She said something this morning and babbled something about you being marooned. I made a point to catch it on the morning news. Good to have you back, Fox.

Fox: Thank you sir. You don't know how good it feels to be back.

George looked around the condo entrance with a look of concern on his face. Then he turned back to the General.

Fox: Sir, let's go next door to the lounge. I'll buy you a drink.

Wade: My treat Fox.

They walked to the lounge, the MP in tow, and sat down at a table. Both George and General Wade ordered a drink but the MP declined and the General motioned for him to sit at the bar.

Fox: ...But how did you find me?

Wade: Called the station. They told me they had you holed up in their condo.

Fox: Nice to see you sir. Maybe we can get together this evening.

Wade: Of course, of course.

Wade: (now excited) Congratulations, Fox. I see you finally got 'em. That was him and the kid with you, wasn't it?

Fox: Yes ... well ... thank you, sir. Yes, it's them.

Wade: You don't know how delighted that makes me, Fox. Couldn't come at a better time.

Fox: What do you mean?

Wade: Haven't you heard? ... I'm retiring from the military. Getting tired of having to apply to those turkeys over in Congress for our military funding. Decided if I couldn't lick 'em, I'd join 'em. Runnin' for the Senate this fall.

Fox: No, I hadn't heard, you know...

Wade: Of course, how could you have known? The news said you've been stranded somewhere out in the Pacific for months. What a drag. Glad to see ya though, and happy that nothing's been said about your alien.

Fox: I wouldn't do that General. I was just planning on quietly taking them back to Washington.

Wade: Not so fast, Fox. I have another plan in mind.

Fox: Another plan?

Wade: Yes. This is just the right jolt to start off my campaign. Corralling an extraterrestrial on the planet should just about assure my election.

Fox: (suddenly understanding the General's intentions) You mean you wanna take 'em in yourself?

Wade: That's the general idea, you and me. Kinda pay me back for all those appropriations I pushed through for you, right? You know those dudes back home. Get your name in the papers about space and you get their votes. (switching tone) Hey, I noticed that you didn't have 'em in restraints. Kinda unorthodox isn't it, with prisoners?

Fox: Didn't feel I needed to yet, sir. Over the past months I've gotten their confidence and believe me, it's easier to live together that way then as a jailer and you learn a lot more.

Wade: How about taking care of security for me until my vacation's over? Can't disappoint the wife by cutting it short. Maintaining peace between nations is easier than keeping peace with your wife if you try to cut short a vacation in the islands.

Fox: Right, and how much longer is this vacation?

Wade: Only ten days.

Fox: You want me to stay on here and take of 'em for another ten days?

Wade: Think about it Fox. We can go together to the Pentagon.

Fox: Sir, with all due respect, I'd rather not watch them here any longer. In Washington, okay, but if you want 'em here, you can take 'em.

Wade: I intend to do that, Fox, but I'd feel better if you'd stay on here with me.

Fox: Not unless that's a direct order, sir. I'm planning on heading back to Washington as soon as I can get transportation, in the morning if possible.

The General did seem genuinely disappointed that Fox would not stay on in the islands to take care of his prisoners.

Wade: Just think about it. Give me your answer later.

Fox: Okay, I'll think about it. What, may I ask, do you have in mind regarding detention, sir?

Wade: Hadn't thought about it. Figured you'd take care of it for me. (Shrugging his shoulders) Stockade at Hickam, I guess would be the best place.

Fox: Not good sir. Not if you want 'em to remain a secret and I'm assuming you do if you're mustering out soon. You know how information flies in a stockade.

Wade: You have a better idea?

Fox: I deal in security all the time, sir. I would suggest Tripler Army Medical Center. They have a tight prison security wing. That would be my choice.

Wade: Good, I'll get that arranged.

Wade: Now let's go get 'em. Are they upstairs?

Fox: I don't know. I think they were going to go out with my partner this morning to get some clothes and supplies. We've been living in these clothes for nine months. If you saw us on TV this morning, you must've noticed that the alien isn't exactly dressed to travel.

Wade: That's true. Why didn't you go with 'em?

Fox: I needed some time away from 'em and my partner can handle 'em if need be. I had other important business to attend to. Besides, I told you, I've gotten their confidence.

Wade: (excited) Well, let's go see if they're up there.

Fox: I don't think you'd better go up there with the uniform. (indicating the officer) You could spook 'em. Let me get 'em secured first.

They finished their drink and got up to leave and were joined by the MP. Remembering that he had only one set of handcuffs, Fox explained and asked the MP for his.

Fox: General, while I get this taken care of, you'd better call for some backup and arrange for a chopper to Oahu. Call Tripler and tell 'em you've got prisoners coming and have them clear the security wing of all other patients. If I'm not back down in ten minutes, it'll mean they're up there ... then come on up.

Wade: Okay, ten minutes.

Fox: (getting up to leave) If they're not there, I'll be back down. But wait in the lobby or in your car, and for God's sake, stay out of sight with the uniforms. I don't want to have to search the whole island for 'em if you spook 'em.

########################################

Paul, Scott and Ben were all together at the room when Fox returned. Scott was giggling, sitting at the desk in the room working on something. Paul and Wylie were looking over his shoulder and helping him with suggestions. Scott had just finished wrapping something in a piece of paper, and when George entered he quickly shoved it in the camera bag sitting beside the desk, away from George's view. Scott handed the wrapped package to Ben and asked him to hand it to George.

George walked over to the dresser where his travel valise was laying, opened it, and with his back to the others, took out his gun and handcuffs. He called Paul to come over to him, then pointed the gun directly at him. Before Paul knew what had happened, one handcuff was already on. Paul responded quickly and moved his other arm out of George's reach.

Fox: Get it up here, Forrester. Now!

Paul: No! ... Why are you doing this? I thought you were my friend. I trusted you.

Hearing the conversation, Wylie and Scott turned to look at Paul and George. Scott got up from the chair, ready to go to his father's aid.

Fox: Stay right where you are, Scott!

Scott stopped, seeing the gun pointed at his father, fearful once again for his father's life.

Paul looked at the handcuff hanging from his wrist and then at Fox and he began to realize that he was being betrayed by this man whom he thought of as a friend. He reached out with his handcuffed hand, took hold of the barrel of Fox's gun and pulled it to his chest.

Paul: (calm and assertive) If this is what it has finally come to then kill me. Kill both of us. Pull the trigger and take our lives. I won't stop you.

Scott was shocked by his father's statement.

Scott: Dad, what are you saying?

Paul didn't answer his son.

Paul: If you still think we're a threat, which apparently you still do, then kill us both now. (swallows hard) I've tried everything I can think of to show you we're not that threat, but you don't want to understand. Even after all we've been through and all we've shared, you can still do this to us. You just can't accept us as not being what you want us to be. Please, ... (swallows again, head down and eyes closed, speaks softly) just make it quick without the lingering pain of Peagrum. Do that much for us. Don't send us back there.

Fox just stared at Paul for a moment. Paul looked up when nothing happened and returned his cold look, unblinking.

Fox: (turning away from Paul's burning eyes and with authority in his voice) No! I said I'd deliver live specimens and that's what I'm going to do. You won't cheat me by death.

Scott: (exploding) FOX, YOU JUDAS! You dirty two-faced BASTARD! I knew we shouldn't have trusted you!

Ben had been standing off to one side, dumbstruck at what he was seeing, but now after Scott's outburst, he reacted.

Wylie: (shocked) Mr. Fox, what are you doing?

Fox: (with authority) My job, and what I have to do! ... And you'll do what you have to do too. It's your job too, Wylie.

Fox backed slightly away from Paul and pulled the gun barrel out of his grasp. Paul now proceeded to further action.

Paul: (calmly) Scott, go to the door.

Scott moved toward the door and Fox turned the gun toward him. Paul then stepped into and stayed in the line of fire between Fox and his son.

Paul: I'm not submitting again. I told you on the island, that someday I might have to test you. I was hoping it would never be necessary. If you want to stop us, this time you'll have to kill us.

Paul turned his back toward Fox and started after Scott. Fox pulled the hammer of the gun all the way back. Paul heard the click as the hammer was cocked and hesitated. Fox then heard the knock at the door and sighed in relief.

Fox: Come in sir. It's not locked.

General Wade entered with three military police officers, guns drawn. Fox, with a motion of his head, directed them to Scott.

Fox: (handing the MP back the extra handcuff) Grab the kid and secure 'im.

While Paul watched Scott's arms being pulled behind his back and handcuffs once again placed on his wrists, Fox walked up behind him and pulling his arms in back secured the second cuff around Paul's free wrist. He pushed Paul into the hands of the MP that had been with the General earlier.

Wade: (with a look of delight on his face) Good work, Fox. I hope you've reconsidered staying on in Hawaii with the prisoners? We can all go back together and make our presentation.

Fox: Look General, I'd been watching for the alien since he was picked up in Arizona, almost seventeen years ago. I followed the woman and kid until they disappeared about four years later, and I've been physically chasing these two for over two years. I've just spent nine months marooned on an island with him and his brat, and all I want to do is go back home to Washington and civilization and get my life back in order.

Ben just stood there with his mouth still hanging open, unable to say anything. He thought that in the past months he had learned a great deal about his boss while he had been marooned with him. Now, he wasn't sure he knew him at all.

Wade: Well Fox, at least you can plan on meeting us at Bolling when we come back to Washington. I'll call you at FSA headquarters and advise you when we'll be in. We'll secure the prisoners and go together to the Pentagon.

Fox: That's fine sir. I'll make arrangements for the security for holding them on that end. ...General, (motioning with a movement of his head) would you step out into the hall with me for one moment?

Wade: Sure. (looks at the MP's) You stay with 'em. We'll be back in a couple of minutes.

Fox moved toward the General.

As Fox passed Paul, following the General toward the door, Paul turned his head to look at him.

Paul: I thought you understood and that you were my friend. I trusted you. ... Why?

Fox: ...for the world.

Paul: (with a look of pain on his face) Your friendship was an act?

Without a further word Fox followed the General out into the hall, turning to face him.

Fox: (quietly) If I might, I have a suggestion that might be better for both of us, sir.

Wade: What suggestion?

Fox: If it were me, I'd keep agent Wylie on here and leave him in charge of the prisoners. He'll take good care of 'em until you're ready to return to Washington. He's not much in the smarts department, but more important, he knows how to keep his mouth shut about the alien's being here. We wouldn't want the story to get out until the time's right.

Wade: Excellent idea since I don't personally know many people here in Hawaii that I'd trust with this matter. With a little slip in the right places around Washington, I know the word will get around to the right news people, the ones where it will do the most good.

Fox: Can't hurt either of us sir.

Wade: I'll arrange for his clearance at the hospital right away. What's his name?

Fox: Benjamin Wylie.

Wade: You suggest putting him in complete charge?

Fox: Yes sir. He can handle it.

They returned to the room. The General motioned to the MP's who were holding Paul and Scott to move and then followed them out into the hall. Fox looked over at Ben who was still standing in shock with his mouth hanging open.

Fox: Close your mouth and pack your things. You're going with the prisoners.

Wylie: (coming out of his trance) Sir?

Fox: (with authority and handing him the handcuff keys) Are you deaf? Go and guard 'em! That's your job.

Wylie: But ...

Fox: Since you've become so attached to 'em, _You_ take care of 'em again. ... GO ... NOW! You can visit with 'em every day if you want. Just take good care of 'em, and remember, ... they _are_ prisoners.

Wylie started for the other side of the room to pack a few items back into his valise when he realized that he was still holding Scott's package in his hand. He walked back to Fox and with a look of total disgust, shoved the package into Fox's stomach, hard.

Wylie: (his voice reflecting his anger) Here ... this was for you, Sir!

Scott was right. You ARE a Judas and a ...

Fox: (with authority) Enough Wylie! Don't say it!

Fox took the package and laid it down quickly on the top of his open travel valise while keeping an eye on Wylie.

Ben finished packing and picking up Paul and Scott's bags lying next to the bed, followed the others out into the hallway, rushing quickly by Fox without another word.

Fox trailed after Ben, ready to escort them all to the General's waiting car in the condo parking garage. He caught up to the rest of them near the elevator and as the elevator door opened they ran directly into the reporter and the cameraman from the television station. As they spotted their subjects the camera started to roll. The MP's at a signal from the General, ushered Paul and Scott by the camera and into the elevator, but not before the barrage of questions started. _Oh great_, thought Fox, _just what we need now, the media._

Wade: Go back to the room, Fox. I'll handle this.

Fox: Thank you sir.

The General fielded questions for several minutes and then excused himself and followed the others out to the car.

########################################

Fox picked up the phone after everyone had left and called the airport and arranged for the first flight available for Washington D.C. While picking up some stuff he had left in the bathroom, he looked in the mirror and noticed that he had not had the time to shave yet or trim his hair, and was sporting the remnants of his scissor cut beard. _Damn,_ he thought. _I look like a hippy. (sighs) Guess it'll have to wait. Should've picked up razor blades and gotten a haircut this morning._

He turned and packed the remaining items in his valise. He then took a quick turn around the room to make sure he had everything and he noticed that Wylie had forgotten the camera bag that Scott had lying by the desk. Fox picked up the bag and put it on the desk and stared at it for what seemed like hours. Fox took a deep shaky breath and grabbed the camera bag and his travel valise and was out the door.

When Fox got to the airport he called the reporter's office, asking the receptionist to thank them for the use of the condo and telling them where they could pick up their car and keys. He hung up immediately, giving them no further explanation for their lost exclusive.

########################################

The General accompanied Wylie and the MP's to the airport section reserved for military use, on the way giving Wylie and one of the MP's instructions for the trip back to Oahu. He called Hickam and made arrangements for the helicopter to fly directly to Tripler Army Medical Center and then called Tripler to give them instructions as to how the prisoners were to be handled while in their care, and who were authorized personnel to have access to them. The General then left to continue his vacation, secure in the knowledge that his most prized possessions were being handled with utmost care and attention.

########################################

The six o' clock television news ran the follow up story.

"In an attempt ladies and gentlemen, to bring you all the news, we have come upon an amazing turn of events with regard to the four castaways which landed in our fair city yesterday afternoon. We were promised an exclusive interview, but as you can see, new developments have taken place. Paul Forrester, and his teenage son, have been arrested and taken into custody by military police and the latest word is that they have left the island. Even more unusual is that the person making the arrest was none other than one of the castaways himself, George Fox. Reliable sources have informed us that Fox is an agent for the United States Federal Security Agency. Paul Forrester and his son were picked up earlier this year at a south island Sheriff's substation and subsequently released to George Fox on Federal Fugitive warrants and were being removed by helicopter. That helicopter was lost from radar shortly after takeoff during that violent storm most of us still remember and all were presumed drowned after an extensive three day search.

"Their appearance on our shores yesterday was the first contact made with any of them since their disappearance. Their story was that they had been marooned on an uninhabited island somewhere off our shore and that they had seen no one in these many months. They claim to have built this craft, pictured in this prior news film, and told this reporter that they had been at sea for over four days before being picked up by a passing boater. A very bizarre story with an even more bizarre ending, leaving many unanswered questions. More later as information unfolds in this strange exciting story."

########################################

Paul and Scott were imprisoned in a security section reserved for military prisoners at Tripler. The section consisted of an "L" shaped wing on the north end of the second floor. All personnel had to go through a metal detector every time they entered a standard procedure for the hospital prison ward. It had been cleared of all other prisoners and Paul and Scott occupied only one room. General Wade's orders were that they were to remain isolated, except for Wylie. The door to their room automatically locked and could only be opened from the outside. There was an intercom available in case of an emergency that rang at the guard's station.

The security gate and metal detector were monitored by two guards around the clock, and was located in a stretch of corridor about thirty feet ahead of the electronic door which formed the actual entrance to the wing. All the guards had top security clearance. Once the entering party had been cleared through the metal detector, one of the guards would punch in a special code and the electronic door would open. The door was operated by one guard and the second guard would accompany any authorized visitor through that door and would then personally open the door to the cell.

After Wylie left and they were secured in the room and alone, Scott verbally attacked his father.

Scott: Why Dad, why did you finally trust him?

Paul: (with a look of surprise) I thought I understood him, Scott.

Scott: (with more than a bit of anger in his voice) Understood HIM! After all he's done to us?

Paul: The last few months, … the talks, ... I thought he understood us too. He told me he'd do everything he could to help us. I believed him.

Scott: You believed HIM?

Paul: Yes, I felt his sincerity.

Scott: Well it sure didn't last long, did it? THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!

Paul: How could I have been so wrong?

Scott: How? I'll tell you how! You're too trusting. You always want to help people. I told Wylie that I didn't trust him, that in the end he'd throw us out like dogs. Instead of being thrown out of the hut, he's thrown us to the wolves! Why did you have to try to help him again? We could have stayed on the island and had some freedom! The way things were there, I could at least stand him. Sometimes he acted ... almost human with us.

Paul: But he said he was so unhappy on the island. He said he couldn't take it any longer. I had to do something for him. He was having headaches again.

Scott: Well, you did something for him alright. You gave him and this General Wade our blood!

Paul: I'm sorry, Scott, but what could I do? I had to help him.

Scott: You have to help. You always have to help! Well, now it's resting on your shoulders! With the spheres gone this time, it'll be a slow and you can bet, unpleasant, end for us in some laboratory. Damn that Fox! ... And damn you too!

Paul realized the truth of Scott's statement. He lay down on the bunk feeling tears collecting in his eyes, turned over to face the wall and said no more. Scott saw the look on his father's face after his accusation was finished and was sorry for what he had said, but he could not bring himself to apologize. It was his father's fault for trusting and trying to help George Fox again. Scott lay down on his own bunk and silently cried to himself.

########################################

Fox's troubles began when he got to the airline ticket agent and tried to charge his ticket on his credit card. The clerk took one look at his worn clothing, long hair and rough shave and excused himself to go run a check on the card number. When he returned, he had a look of self satisfaction on his face.

Clerk: I'm sorry sir, but this card is no longer valid.

Fox: What do you mean?

Clerk: The notation is that the card holder is deceased.

Fox: I'm the card holder and I'm certainly not deceased! (pulls out his wallet and withdrew several pieces of identification) Here's my driver's license with my picture, my gasoline credit card, my government ID card with my picture. (holds up the pictures) That's me and I'm not deceased!

Clerk: I'm sorry sir, but I can't honor your card with this notation in the computer. Do you still want the ticket?

Fox: (voice raising) Of course I want the ticket! (calming down noticing some people staring) Look, did you see the late news last night on TV?

Clerk: Yes sir.

Fox: Didn't you see me? I'm one of the four that sailed into town yesterday after being lost for nine months.

Clerk: You do look familiar, but I still can't accept a charge on an invalid card. If you still want the ticket, how are you going to pay for it?

Fox: How much is it?

Clerk: (punching the fares on the computer screen) To Washington D.C., first class, one way, that will be $1493.00.

Fox: $1,493.00! I don't have that kind of money! How about economy?

Clerk: $865.00.

Fox: How about to Honolulu?

Clerk: That's an inter-island flight and I think they charge (punches in the rate) around $40. Looks like that plane is leaving in twenty minutes. The desk is across the terminal. If you hurry, you can just make it.

Fox: (mumbling) I guess I'll have to go out to the base and catch a military flight home. That's how I'd originally planned to get home anyway.

Fox stuffed his wallet and cards into his pocket and took off at a run across the terminal to the smaller commuter desk to stand in a line, finally getting to the front.

Clerk: Next ... May I help you?

Fox: You have space on the flight to Honolulu leaving shortly?

Clerk: Yes. Leaving in ten minutes.

Fox: (taking out his wallet and pulling out some cash) Write it up.

########################################

Paul and Scott saw a doctor whom the General had granted access only once to give them a general physical examination required by the hospital. They both got a clean bill of health. The doctor, however, noted for the record what appeared to be bullet wound scars in Paul's shoulder and he asked about the marks on his back and the rings on their wrists and Paul's ankles, but neither Paul nor Scott wanted to talk about them. Ben however, who was with them for the examinations, was not so reserved and gave the doctor the information he requested.

########################################

Ben was surprised that he had been given almost complete security clearance to deal with the prisoners, and he took his job seriously, visiting and usually spending much of the day with them. He found out, in a phone conversation with General Wade that Fox had suggested this arrangement to the General and wondered why. Perhaps Mr. Fox was finally acknowledging after all these years, his dedication to his job ... or maybe Fox just wanted to make sure Paul and Scott would be well taken care of for his own career advancement. Ben had decided that he would take good care of them alright and would try to keep them in good spirits, but that Fox would receive no career advantage from them if he could help it.

Ben, in his bumbling way, would constantly cause the metal detector to go off as he came and went because he was always carrying his pocket knife, his badge and some change or other things in his pockets and always seemed to forget to remove them before passing through the scanner.

The first couple of days the guards would carefully search him, then later he would get a silly look on his face, apologize and start removing things when he heard the alarm go off. He always cheerfully cooperated with the search. Sometimes he would come and go five and six times a day, ringing the alarm off at least two or three times. In a couple of days it became a routine and soon everyone seemed to get a kick out of Ben's forgetful manner. They nicknamed him "ding dong", wagering among themselves to pass the time, as to whether he would remember or forget the next time he came through and put their hands over their ears each time he would rush past them. It soon became a conversational joke between the guards, wondering how a guy so high in the Government could be so forgetful of routine things.

The room had a camera set up in the corner of one end and on the morning of their second day in confinement, Ben decided to determine if anyone was truly monitoring it. He hadn't seen the camera move to follow their movements. The security that the General had placed on the pair led him to believe that perhaps the General did not want to share his secret with anyone not required to know. Ben took his coat and hung it over the camera and when no one appeared to question it, he decided that no monitoring was being done. As a precaution though, he decided to keep the camera covered permanently, just in case. If someone approached them he would simply remove the cover and indicate that they wished their privacy unless the monitoring was necessary.

At the same time that he was trying to keep Paul and Scott in good spirits, he was in his own mind, trying to come up with some way of helping them to escape. He thought about merely breaking them out, but always came up with the same problem. Where would the three of them go afterward? When word of an escape got out, the military would certainly shut down the city and seal the island so tight they would all be trapped with nowhere to run. He had to work on a safe hiding place and used his time away from the facility working toward that goal.

Ben had authority to come and go from the ward without restriction, subject only to the standard security procedures. He was given use of one of the now empty rooms in the section and therefore did not have to find a place to stay off the base. The General had advised him that his duty was to see that the prisoners were comfortable and had whatever they needed. After being thoroughly checked, their two personal bags containing Paul's shaving equipment, clothes and personal cosmetics they had brought with them when they came to the islands, were returned to them, minus the razor. Unlike most prisoners treated in the section, they were not required to wear standard stockade garb even though they were in a prison ward since on the hospital's records, as far as anyone knew, they were only being detained in transit.

They were allowed to select from a varied food menu and the atmosphere was for the most part, pleasant, if one could consider being incarcerated and isolated as pleasant.

########################################

As Fox settled down in the airline seat of the military jet for the long flight back to Washington, he fell asleep. The dream returned, playing itself out once again through Paul Forrester's death and the appearance of Scott and his accusation of George Fox's responsibility. Fox continued to watch as Scott touched the body of his father and it slowly began to glow with an increasing intensity. Fox repeated his innocence to Scott. Scott suddenly began to cry openly, but through his sobs, Fox heard his words.

Scott: He's still in there and he's going to die.

There was a short pause as if Scott and his father were conversing and then somehow Fox could hear their conversation.

"I love you, Scott and I want you to live."

"Dad, I don't want to, not without you."

"For me, you must. You're my son and only through you will I live ... and remember, you shouldn't hate anyone".

"Dad, I can't do it anymore," came his son's reply.

The alien's voice suddenly became weaker as he tried to encourage his son. "You can do it. I know you can." Suddenly the body of the alien started to drift slowly away.

Scott grabbed hold of his father, holding on with all his strength then looked up at Fox once again and the tears that had been flowing freely down his face were gone and in his eyes, Fox could see the growing anger and hatred. "It's your fault!", came the accusing words.

"I didn't do it, Scott. Please let me help you."

"Help us! You betrayed us! You've killed him! Why couldn't you just leave us alone? We weren't hurting anything."

"Please believe me", Fox pleaded, "I want to help you!"

In a voice reflecting a lifetime of misery, loss and anger, came the boy's reply, "I don't need your help. I don't need anyone."

Suddenly Fox heard another shot that echoed over and over and he saw Scott fall to the ground beside his father. He looked down and saw smoke rising from his weapon even though he knew he had never fired the shot. As he looked back down, the body of Scott Hayden began to glow, but not with the same intensity as his father. Fox screamed "NO!" in his dream and dropped to his knees, reaching out to touch their bodies, but as he did so, a change took place and the bright floor changed to one of bright spotted blackness and the bodies of the alien and his son began to fall away from Fox's touch, tumbling slowly down into the abyss until they were lost from his view.

Fox awoke suddenly. He was breathing hard and sweating. He thought to himself, "No ... no, I'm sorry Forrester, Scott. I had to do it. I'm sorry. Please God, forgive me." Just then a young lieutenant came by and noticed Fox's troubled appearance.

Lieutenant: Are you alright sir?

Fox: Yes. I just had a bad dream is all.

Lt: Well, would you like something to eat perhaps, or a drink?

Fox: You got some coffee?

Lt: Yes sir. How do like it?

Fox: Black ... and hot.

Lt: Right away, sir.

Fox closed his eyes momentarily and waited for his coffee. Right now he just wished the memory of that dream would leave him and the plane would land. He thought to himself, _Forrester, what have you done to me? Why did you have to come into my life? Why?_

The lieutenant came back with his coffee.

Fox: Thank you.

Lt: You're welcome sir. Enjoy it and try to relax. We've still got a long way to go before we land in Washington, sir.

Fox just grumbled and sipped his coffee. The lieutenant walked off.

########################################

Fox, after a delay of almost a whole day, had finally arrived at Bolling Air Force Base in Washington D.C... He headed immediately for his office at FSA headquarters, but upon arrival, found a new secretary sitting at Edna's desk and noticed a new name plate on his office door. He talked to the secretary.

Fox: What's going on? Where's Edna? And who are you?

Secretary: My name is Jane Putnam and I'm agent Jordan's secretary.

Fox: Who's Jordan?

Jane: Special Agent, of the FSA, sir, and who may I ask, are you?

Fox: George Fox, Special Agent, FSA!

Jane: I'm sorry sir, but George Fox was declared missing and presumed dead several months ago and Agent Jordan is now in charge.

Fox: I'm George Fox and I'm not dead! Get Jordan out of my office!

Jane: I'm sorry sir, but how do I know you are George Fox?

Fox: Because I'm telling you! (pulls out his ID) See?

Fox rushed past the secretary after giving her only a fleeting second to view his identification before he stuffed it back in his pocket, and rushed into his office. He saw Jordan sitting at the desk, then realized the entire office had been changed.

Jordan: (startled) Can I help you sir?

Fox: I'm George Fox and you're sitting in my office. OUT!

Jordan: (first surprised, then with a smile, stands up) Mr. Fox, I'm glad to meet you, but I have official orders to occupy this office. I was assigned to take over here when you were officially declared missing and presumed ...

Fox: (interrupting) Well, I'm not and I want my office back.

Jordan: Well I'm sorry, but without official approval from General Wade, I'm not authorized to do that.

Fox: I left General Wade yesterday, in Hawaii. Didn't he call you?

Jordan: I'm sorry, no, he didn't. Perhaps there's something I can do for you?

Fox: Damn, I need an office and a phone. I'm expecting an important call from the General.

Jordan: There's a small office down the hall. Would that be alright?

Jordan escorted Fox to a space that Fox has always thought to be a closet. Fox gave him a cold stare, but figured any place would do until this mess was straightened out and he had _his_ office back.

Fox: Can you supply me with a phone ... and an answering machine? I'm going to be out quite a bit.

Jordan: I think that can be arranged. (as he turns to leave) And welcome back, Mr. Fox.

Fox: (as he plops himself in the chair behind the tiny desk rather sullenly) Thank you.

Within two hours, Fox had the phone and answering machine that he'd requested. Fox called Bethesda Military Hospital and arranged for the detention of two top security prisoners for General Wade for an undetermined length of time. Whenever the General was ready to ship them stateside, they would be ready with secure accommodations. Fox got up and left the "office" to track down his personal and office belongings.

Now low on cash, Fox had to do his traveling by bus. His frustration was growing.

His next stop was his apartment, but when he arrived, he found it had been rented shortly after he'd been declared missing. His apartment was gone, a tragedy in D.C., as apartments were almost impossible to find and what was available was certainly to be overpriced, or undesirably located. In addition to this dude that had his office and his lost apartment, when he called his bank he found out that he had no access to his accounts. The Government had placed a lien on them pending determination of taxes which might be owed them because of his death. His credit had all been terminated with the placing of the Government lien; and his furniture, both from his apartment and office, was gone. The apartment manager told him to check with the office about the furniture.

Fox returned to headquarters and found that when he had been declared missing and presumed dead, Edna had volunteered to store the things from his office and apartment. She had indicated to the department that she had a place to store them and she was sure that Mr. Fox would be back. The department agreed to allow her to do so for a year. When Jordan moved into Fox's office, he had his own secretary. Edna had moved to a suburb of Baltimore where she had taken another FSA job and she had taken everything with her when she moved.

Fox finally managed to obtain some cash through the personnel department secured by back wages that they owed him after filling out eight forms in triplicate. He felt sure as he finished filled out all the forms that they would ask him to sign everything in blood. The personnel director then assured him that he would have the Government clear the lien from his accounts immediately. He never imagined what kind of hell he'd be going through now. Certainly nothing like this.

########################################

Paul seemed despondent. Scott felt sure he knew why, but couldn't bring himself to deal with it.

Paul would answer any questions directed to him, but his answers were just as direct and he didn't seem interested in any conversation. Wylie would bring books and magazines to pass the time and Paul would seem to be reading for hours, but when Scott would ask him what he was reading, he seemed so vague that Scott felt he must be just reading the words and not comprehending what he was reading. When it continued into the second day, Wylie became concerned and took Scott aside while Paul was napping.

Wylie: Scott, what's bothering your dad? He seems so detached ... so quiet.

Scott: I think it's my fault. When you left here yesterday, I chewed Dad out. I told Dad it was his fault we were here. If he hadn't decided to help Mr. Fox we would still be on the island and free. I think Dad feels guilty about what's happened ... and I think he's scared too.

Wylie: Scott, your dad had no way of knowing that Mr. Fox would do this. Hell, even I didn't think he'd ever do this to you.

Scott: (spoken bitterly) Fox, ... damn him. Damn him to hell. How could he betray us like that?

Wylie: I don't know, Scott.

Scott: (quietly) Ben?

Wylie: Yes?

Scott: (slowly) I'm scared too. I don't want to ...

Wylie: (putting a reassuring arm around the boy's shoulders, draws him close) Scott, don't worry, okay? I'll think of some way out of here yet. If I gotta become a fugitive myself, I will. I won't see you or your dad slowly die in some lab or locked away in a cage, but in the meanwhile, you'd better get things straightened out between you and your father, okay?

Scott: I just can't seem to find the right opportunity. I don't think Dad wants to talk to anyone.

Wylie: (letting go of Scott) Just try the direct method. It usually works the best. Just apologize for what you said and take it from there. I'm sure he'll forgive you. He's a very understanding man.

Scott wasn't quite ready for Ben's approach and decided to wait until tomorrow to see if his father would break the ice and talk to him.

When it continued into the third day, Scott could not stand it any longer and knew that he had to somehow put things right between them. Scott walked over to where Paul was, staring out the barred window and tapped him on the shoulder.

Scott: Dad, I'm sorry. I didn't mean what I said.

Paul: (absent mindedly) What?

Scott: I said I'm sorry Dad.

Paul: Sorry for what, Scott?

Scott: For what I said the other day. It wasn't really your fault. Fox fooled all of us. I was even getting to like him ...somewhat.

Paul: I guess he did fool us. I just don't know how I could be so wrong. Everything I felt about him and all of our talks led me to believe that he had really changed his feelings toward us.

Scott: I guess we know better now.

Paul: I guess so, but on the cliff he was in pain, afraid and tense, and something I didn't understand then, but later thought was his feeling of guilt for what he'd done to us. After we moved into the hut his tension was gone and I couldn't feel any further hidden feelings. He really seemed genuinely interested in knowing more about me.

Scott: Yeah, know thy enemy. Dad, this isn't the first time you've been wrong about something. It's just being human and ... I guess it's also human to try to put the blame on someone else instead of confessing the truth. I'm sorry. I don't want you to be so sad, Dad.

Paul: (smiling) Thank you. I'd already put that behind me. I know you didn't mean it the way it sounded. You were angry and just being human. (serious again) But I'm not that human, Scott. I can still sense people's feelings and shouldn't have been so easily fooled.

Scott: Maybe what you thought was guilt was just the real Fox coming through.

Paul: Maybe, but there's another thing that bothers me. How did this General Wade get to us so fast? Fox would have had to contact him almost as soon as we landed.

Scott: Remember, Fox did leave us the next morning when we went to get our stuff off the beach.

Paul: But how did he get here so fast?

Scott: Who?

Paul: This General Wade.

Scott: Must've used a private jet or a military plane I guess.

Paul: Unless he didn't come from Washington. ... And who is he? I heard Fox refer to him as, sir. Maybe he's Fox's boss.

Scott: He could be. Now that you mention it, I do remember Fox calling him, sir.

Paul: And why are we still here? Fox would have taken us back at once. We've been here for three days already and there's been no word as to when or where we're going.

Scott: Don't push it Dad. Right here is just fine. I'm in no hurry to end up in a laboratory again.

Paul looked at his son sympathetically. Scott looked back.

Scott: Maybe Ben can tell us something when he comes in. He says the General calls him every day.

Paul: Yes. (sighs) And I guess maybe I'm also worried that I'm becoming too human from being in this body for so long. Maybe I'm losing my power. Maybe my powers can't exist for so long in a human body without a sphere.

Scott: What are you saying? That you're becoming just 'human' because we haven't got the spheres?

Paul: I don't know.

Scott: Then what about me? My powers had been increasing before Fox caught us. I've always been in a human body, Dad, and I never even used the sphere until you came.

Paul: You're right there. But that's just it, you were born human. I was not. (deep in thought) I guess I'll just have to wait and see, but every time I think I understand humans, I run into a George Fox and another mystery.

########################################

Time was running out for Ben. Six days had passed and only four remained before General Wade's vacation was over. He had to find a way for Paul and Scott to escape.

It was evening now and under cover of darkness, wearing a false mustache, a hat and clothes generally accepted as tourist fare in the islands, the man waited in front of the hospital and confronted Ben Wylie as he was leaving early in the evening. Ben recognized the man even with the disguise.

Wylie: (anger in his voice) Mr. Fox! What are you doing here?

Fox: Shh, not so loud.

Wylie: (now with more than just a little anger) I guess you've come back to cash in on the apprehension of the alien and get on General Wade's grand entrance bandwagon! I understand he's planning on running for office.

Fox started to explain, but this time Wylie wouldn't listen. He hesitated only for a few additional seconds and caught Fox with a good solid right cross sending him flying backwards out onto the hospital lawn. Fox just lay on the ground in a submissive position.

Wylie: You disgust me!

Fox: I guess I deserved that, Ben.

Wylie: It's Mr. Wylie to you! I've been hoping to do that for almost a whole week. Didn't think I'd get the opportunity. And I suggest that you don't get up just yet because I might get the urge to give you another one.

Fox: Before you belt me again, just listen a minute to what I have to say. Please?

Fox reached into his pocket and pulled out a shiny sphere for him to see.

Fox: (quietly) Do you think by this time you can get this to Paul?

Ben sputtered, as he looked the shiny object, trying to rationalize in his mind what he was seeing and slowly a questioning look came into his eyes.

Wylie: What's going on sir?

Fox: Ben, you're the key to getting them out of there. (motions to the hospital)

Wylie: (a look of comprehension begins to materialize) _You planned this?_

Fox: Yes, I planned it, well, not exactly. I knew that you'd visit them or whatever General Wade would allow, and that you'd be going through their security. I also guessed that in your spare time you'd be trying to come up with a way of helping 'em out. I assume you've been doing all that.

Wylie: (flabbergasted) Yes, ... yes I have!

Fox: Well, what have you come up with?

Wylie: Security's tight sir. They keep checking me, but I keep forgetting to remove my knife, badge and change from my pockets and I keep setting off the metal detector. Some of the guards don't bother anymore and just let me go through, after I give 'em my knife that is. They don't bother with my badge and change. I could sneak it in with my change. I've actually gotten to be quite a joke with them. They're even wagering on me. If I could've gotten them out of the hospital somehow, my problem was where could I hide them once I got them out. I was going to take that one step at a time. I've been looking for hiding places every chance I get, but nothing's safe if they look hard enough. Found a couple that look possible, otherwise, I just planned on breaking them out somewhere en-route to Washington, and run with 'em.

During their exchange the expression on Ben's face had turned from one of surprise at finding out what his boss had been up to, to one of extreme relief and then to one of slight annoyance at being kept in the dark about what should have been joint plans.

Wylie: ... But why didn't you tell me you were going to help them? Do you know what they've been going through thinking you'd betrayed them? Paul felt totally responsible for what was sure to be certain trip back to the laboratory, possibly dying, or at best both of them being locked away somewhere for good. He's hardly spoken to anyone at all, not even Scott. And he hasn't eaten much either. Scott finally had a talk with him and it seemed to help, but I'm very worried about him. If I didn't know him better, and didn't know what life ... and living, means to him, I'd swear he was contemplating suicide.

Fox: I know, I know. I've been going through the same thing knowing that they've been thinking that Ben, but I couldn't help it. There wasn't enough time. I even had that same damn nightmare that I had back on the island come back to haunt me when I flew back to Washington. But now we're ready to get 'em out and still have our jobs.

Wylie: (annoyed) I don't care about the job!

Fox: You'd better care. Without this job Ben, you wouldn't be in the position you are to help them. We'd've both been out of the department on our ear and General Wade would have 'em for sure. And we can be of more help on the inside finding Jenny Hayden and finding them a safe place to live. Back on Hawaii I suggested to the General that he bring 'em here to Tripler, feeling that they'd be safer here in a hospital than trying to hide from the authorities on the island. But I ran into the same problem you ran into; in an all out manhunt they could have been killed.

Wylie: Well, what took you so long? You've been gone almost the whole week.

Fox: You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Shortly you will though. You're gonna run into the same problem too when you get back. I guess I kind of understand now what it's like not to have a home, money or a steady income.

Wylie: Well, what's your plan?

Fox: To get 'em out, Ben!

Wylie: But...

Fox: Ben, please don't ask anymore. If I get caught, just play dumb. No one can get information from you that you don't have. Here, take this sphere and give it to Paul. Don't tell him anything except to plan to leave out the window at 8:00 tonight.

Wylie: What about the other sphere. Do you have it?

Fox: Yes, I have it. I'll keep it in case this doesn't work. It'll give us another chance. After you give it to Paul, make sure you have someone who can give you an alibi until at least 10:00. Then go back through the security and discover the escape. That should keep you in the clear.

Wylie: But...

Fox: I need a couple of hours to get clear of the area.

Wylie: But where are you going?

Fox gave Ben a critical look.

Wylie: Don't ask?

Fox: Right.

Wylie: An alibi shouldn't be any problem. They gave me a room in the same security section. I'm locked in the same as they are. If I've been out I have to clear security when I go to bed. I'll just go back to my room after I leave the General. The guards will clock in the time I come in and then let me into my room. With the monitor not on the guards will have no way of knowing that they're not in the room. That way you'll have at least until midnight to get away from Honolulu. That's when the guard does his usual rounds and personally checks their room.

Fox: That's better yet. (a thoughtful look came over George's face) You seein' the General tonight?

Wylie: I've got an appointment with him at 7:30 to talk about plans to move them to Washington. He called me this morning and told me he was going to move them tomorrow.

Fox: Tomorrow! But he wasn't supposed to move them for three more days! (suddenly paling) Oh God, one more day and I'd've been too late. I wonder what made him decide to go early?

Wylie: Maybe he's excited about all the attention he's gonna get for this.

Fox: I guess Susan finally took a back seat. I was supposed to meet him at Bolling, Monday, to go to the Pentagon with him. I'll be willing to wager he wasn't going to tell me about the change just so he could claim all the glory himself. At this time I wouldn't put it past him. Political success at any cost is ruling his sense of fairness.

Wylie: Yes sir. (looks at his watch) Oh my gosh, I'm going to be late if I don't get a move on!

Fox: You'd better get going then, ... but Ben, before you go, show me the window of the room they're in, okay?

Wylie: C'mon.

Ben quickly led George to the backside of the hospital and indicated a second floor window.

Fox: If this works, I'll see you in a couple days. If the General asks about me showing up in the islands, tell him you called me about the escape. Now get going.

Wylie: (with a grin) Yes sir!

Ben returned to the hospital, went up to the second floor, placing the sphere George had given him in his pocket. He hurried up to the guards and proceeded to move through the metal detector, remarking as he went by.

Wylie: Darn! Not again! I'll be late for my appointment with General Wade!

Ben stopped when the alarm went off and started to take out his knife and badge. One of the guards waved him on, holding out his hand for the knife. The second guard then ran after him to let him in the room. Ben told the guard that this would be a short visit and to wait at the door. The guard nodded and unlocked the door. As he stepped into the room, he put his hands in his pockets and the door closed.

Paul was standing despondently, looking out the window and never glanced up as he came in. Ben could feel his despair. He walked up behind Paul, took his right hand out of his pocket and placed it on Paul's shoulder. Getting Paul's attention, Paul straightened immediately and turned, his eyes lit with surprise. Ben extended his hand and Paul took it in both of his and Ben passed him the sphere.

Wylie: (slightly out of breath) Here Paul, leave ... out the window, tonight ... 8:00. Use the bed sheets to get down to the ground.

Paul: How'd you ...?

Wylie: No time to explain. Just remember 8:00, not before. I've got to go now or I'll be late for my meeting with General Wade. Good-bye Paul, and good luck, to both of you.

Paul just stood there with a puzzled expression on his face. Ben turned, went to the door and knocked. The door opened, he stepped out and it locked shut once more.

Scott: (who had been lying down on the bunk and hadn't seen the sphere) Dad, what's going on?

Paul: (smiles as he shows his son the sphere) This.

Scott eyes popped wide as he focused on the shiny metallic ball in his father's hand. "Now we can escape", he thought, a smile rapidly coming over his face.

Paul: (almost in a whisper) Wylie said we'll have to wait until 8:00. That's just forty minutes from now.

Scott: Why 8:00?

Paul: I don't know, but we'll do as he says.

Scott: (whispers) Awright!

At precisely 8:00 PM, the bars on the window felt the power of the sphere. Scott tied the sheets to the bars and climbed out first, lowering himself to the ground. Paul tossed out Scott's and his bags to his son and then climbed down himself. Paul pointed his finger and the sheets 'returned' inside the window. With that taken care of so no one would see the evidence of a jailbreak unless they glanced upwards at the bars, they turned around to run. A man came out of hiding from behind the bushes and Paul and Scott stopped suddenly. Scott recognized the figure standing in front of him and stepped back, backing up right into his dad.

George Fox put his finger up to his lips to shush Scott, but Scott whispered angrily.

Scott: YOU! What are you doing here? Gonna turn us in again to collect a reward?

Fox: (also whispering) No. (removes the other sphere from his pants pocket and holds it out in his open hand for Scott to see) I came to get you out. Take it, Scott.

Scott just stood there dumbstruck and a smile appeared on Paul's face. Scott recovered and quickly snatched his sphere from George's hand.

Fox: C'mon. We've got to go now. I'll explain everything to you on the way, but we can't afford to waste time standing here.

George motioned the direction and the three of them moved away from the hospital building. Under the cover of darkness, they went to a car parked a short distance away and were soon driving away from the hospital grounds toward the city.

Paul: (still smiling) George, why is it I'm not surprised to see you? When Ben gave me the sphere earlier, I thought about it and I knew it had to be you. I must say I'm glad to see you.

Scott: Well, he sure surprised me.

Fox: Thank you, Scott.

Scott: For what?

Fox: I guess I was a pretty good actor.

Paul and Scott: (simultaneously) Yes, you were!

Scott: You had all three of us believing you were a rat.

Paul: I really thought you had betrayed us, George. I don't like how betrayal feels. It hurts, a lot.

Fox: I know and I'm sorry, but when General Wade showed up like that, I had to think fast. I'll tell you all about it later, okay? Right now I've got to concentrate. Don't want to miss the harbor turnoff.

George drove them through Honolulu and down to the yacht harbor where they boarded a boat and headed out of the harbor to the open sea.

Paul: Where are you taking us?

Fox: Back to the island of course. You'll be safe there until the 'heat' dies down here. When the coast is clear, I'll come pick you up. Okay?

Scott: No arguments from me.

Paul: Sounds good to me too.

Fox: Good.

George turned the navigation over to Paul for any corrections, making a mental note of the heading for the return trip. George then turned to Paul and Scott.

Fox: I guess you'd like to hear what's been going on?

Paul: (calmly) Whenever you're ready.

Fox: Well I hardly know where to start, so I guess I'll just start at the beginning. You know we were on TV the night we got back, right?

Scott: Yeah, we figured that.

Fox: Well, as luck would have it, General Wade and his wife were in Kona by chance, on their first vacation in two years. His wife saw the broadcast and recognized me. She was going to tell him right then, but he'd already fallen asleep, so she decided not to wake him, but in the morning she tuned in the news and he recognized all four of us. He called the station and they told him where we were staying. By some good fortune, I ran into him outside the apartment building.

Paul: You consider that 'good fortune'?

Fox: Yes, definitely. He had the military police with him, ready to take you both into custody. If he would have caught all of us in the room I wouldn't have known of his plans. I would probably have spoken directly in your defense and lost all control of the situation. As it was, I asked him what he was doing in the islands and he told me he was here on vacation; that he and his wife had been planning it for almost nine months and that he didn't want to cut it short and disappoint her.

Paul: What does that have to with all of this?

Fox: If he cut that vacation short Paul, he'd've hauled you and Scott off right then and there to Hickam and then Peagrum or D.C. Knowing his plans gave me time to recover your spheres and get them back to you. It also let Ben and me save our jobs.

Scott: So you put us through hell to save your precious job?

Fox: Yes Scott. If things didn't work out like they did, Ben and I would both have been 'out on our ear' as they say, and then we wouldn't be able to help and protect you and your father. We can only do that if we're working on the inside. You understand?

Scott: Yeah, I guess so. We thought you ran off to contact the General when you left us that morning. We didn't know who at the time, but after our capture, we figured it was him.

Fox: No, I didn't.

Paul: Then where did you go?

Fox: To the land office to see if you could claim our island and to find out what it takes to make the claim.

Paul: (smiling) Really? You did that for me?

Fox: (returning smile) Yes, I did.

Paul: And is it possible for me to claim the island?

Fox: Yes.

Paul: How?

George told Paul all the details.

Fox: You still want to claim it?

Paul: No. Thinking about it in the hospital, we'd just be trading one kind of isolation for another. In the long run, I don't believe we'd truly be happy.

George: (smiling, answering thoughtfully) I think you're right.

Paul: George, who is this General Wade? I didn't have the opportunity to ask Ben about him. I heard you calling him, sir, up in the room.

Fox: He's just about the second in command to the Secretary of Defense. He's a very important man. The only real contact I've had with him over the years has been in having him get me the funding necessary for 'my project', you know, ...you. He had continued to support my project when everyone else was laughing by sliding an appropriation through Congress, but I really didn't know what I could expect from him as far as listening to me. I told him that I was planning to take you both back with me right away. (seriously) You knew that I wanted to take you back to Washington, didn't you?

Paul: I suspected that, but I didn't expect it to be the way you did it.

Fox: I was going to explain to you and ask you to come back with me. I was going to put you both up somewhere safe and then plead your case for remaining free based on my own personal experience while on the island. I wasn't going to tell anyone about the spheres but was merely going to keep them for a while and volunteer to keep an eye on both of you until I felt sure that you could be trusted. If they wouldn't buy it I was just going to resign.

Paul: What made you change your mind?

Fox: Paul, ... when I saw the look in General Wade's eyes, I knew that I could trust _you_ more than I could ever trust _him_ and that I could never allow him to take you back to be used. He wanted to use you to launch his political career based on your capture. I'm afraid that whatever I would have tried to say on your behalf at that point would have been less than useless. You would have made the headlines for him for as long as he needed you and afterward you would have just disappeared under the guise of National Security never to be seen or heard of again. I just couldn't let that happen. I decided at that instant to play his game, but by _my_ rules.

Paul: (raising his eyebrows) Your rules? Did that include turning us over to him?

Fox: Yes, I'm afraid it did. I would have told you, but there just wasn't any time. I had to make a decision about a plan of action on the impulse of the moment. I asked him what he planned to do with you while he finished his vacation and he told me that he would merely have you held somewhere in a security section until he was ready to leave. I suggested Tripler to him, hoping that he wouldn't utilize a stockade. That would have given us two security systems to get through, jail security and the base perimeter. Knowing that he would probably prefer to isolate you both to keep the story from leaking out and ruining his grand entrance, I chose the hospital. He fell for it, so to say, hook, line and sinker.

Paul: Hook, li...

Scott: Never mind Dad. I'll explain that one to you later. You mean this was a plan?

Fox: Yes, well, sort of. I figured that you'd both be safer at Tripler then trying to avoid the authorities on the island without your spheres. I told the General that I did not want to stay in the islands any longer, that I wanted to go back to Washington the next morning.

Paul: And take us with you?

Fox: Yes, but he wouldn't go for that, he wanted to come up to the apartment with me to take you both into custody. I convinced him that maybe you weren't there, or if you saw him coming he would lose the element of surprise. I didn't want him to follow me up to the room, so I suggested he contact the Military Police and get a couple more officers and make some detention and transportation arrangements first. I asked for the MP's handcuffs and told the General to give me ten minutes and that if you were in the apartment I'd get you secured before the troops came up. He went back to his car to do the calling, but it didn't take him ten minutes.

Paul: But why didn't you tell us there was trouble?

Fox: I was going to at first, but then I decided that if you knew nothing that everyone would act more normal. I'm sorry, I did what I thought was best.

Scott: (with obvious anger) Do you know what you did to Dad? To all of us?

Fox: Yeah, I know, Ben told me ... but before _you_ decide to punch me, Scott (holding his hand to his chin) ...Ben already did. I deserved it and I am sorry, but I've always been somewhat of a loner and did have to do what I thought was best. Being at the hospital was safer for both of you, but getting the spheres back was of the highest priority and to have access to FSA headquarters, I had to be sure that the General believed me. That credibility started with all three of you also believing me. I wanted to say something when you asked me to kill both of you, but you left me literally speechless and I decided to say nothing. Then you astonished me when you actually did start to walk away, testing me, like you said you might have to do someday. At that moment I was actually glad to hear the General's knock. I had to stop you.

Paul: I heard the hammer go back on your gun. Is that how you'd have stopped me?

Fox: You were going to stop weren't you?

Paul: (calmly) No.

Fox: Oh God. ...I guess I should thank General Wade for being two minutes early because you'd never have gotten out of the building.

Paul: Please continue with your story, George. I'm sorry I interrupted.

Fox: Anyway, I guess my act was pretty good, because it certainly surprised me when I found out that the General had given Ben the total responsibility of taking care of you as I suggested to him on the basis of Ben being able to keep you two a secret. I figured I'd be gone for two days, three at the most, but you wouldn't believe the problems I ran into even before I left Hawaii.

Paul: Problems?

Fox: Yeah, problems. Because I had been officially declared dead, my credit cards had been cancelled and I couldn't get a plane ticket. I had to go back to military standby. When I got to D.C. I had no apartment, no money, some dude still has my office and my secretary took all my furniture with her when she moved to Baltimore. I had sent the spheres to her and asked her to put 'em in my desk, but I forgot that she was on vacation and not available to sign for the package, so the post office tried to return it to me at FSA headquarters. Since I wasn't there, they held it for a while longer. You know where I finally found them?

Paul: (smiling) Where?

Fox: The post office sent them back to that town where we picked you up. That's where I finally caught up with them.

Scott: What goes around comes around I guess.

Fox: That's certainly true in this case.

Paul: George, where is Ben? Why didn't he come too?

Fox: Can't. He needs an alibi for cover when the guards discover your breakout, so he's in his room at the hospital. Don't worry, Paul. He'll be fine.

They traveled on into the night, and just shortly before dawn was to appear again, Paul stopped the boat's engines and once again checked the compass, then looked up at the night sky and cross checked their position with the stars. He looked back at Scott and George, uneasily.

George: What are we stopping for?

Paul: We're here.

Fox: Wha'd'ya _mean_ we're here? There's nothing out here but water. I don't see the island at all.

Paul: I know, but these are the correct coordinates.

Scott: Are you sure, Dad?

Paul stared at Scott, surprised at the question.

Paul: Yes, I'm sure.

Fox: C'mon. Maybe you steered the wrong course. Everybody's entitled to make one mistake.

Paul: I did not make a mistake. In my profession, a mistake can get you killed.

Fox: So where's the island?

Scott: Yeah Dad, where's the island?

Paul took a deep breath and looked at his son and the FSA agent. He didn't want to frighten them, but he knew his explanation most probably would.

Paul: I think you two better sit down.

Scott: (getting nervous) What is it Dad?

Paul: Nothing to be scared of. ... Scott, George, I think I may have an explanation, or at least a theory as to where our island is.

Fox: Okay, let's hear it. I don't wanna sit here all night.

Paul: You may not like it.

Fox: Maybe not, but tell us anyway.

Paul began.

Paul: George ... our island is here, but I think it's also not here.

Scott: Huh?

Fox: You wanna run that by me again?

Paul: What I mean is, it does exist, but not in this present frame of space and time that we are in at this present moment.

Scott: You mean another dimension?

Paul: Or time, yes.

Scott: Parallel dimension or past or future dimension?

Paul: Or possibly both.

Fox: Excuse me, but this sounds like stuff scientists discuss like quantum physics, or the theory of relativity or stuff science fiction writers write. Parallel dimensions, that's crazy.

Paul: No, it's not. Take a look at the facts we have. One, we were on this island. That's a fact. Two, we're here now at the exact coordinates and it's not here. Three, fact one is provable. Our dugout canoe can attest to that. We couldn't have materialized a canoe out of thin air ... or thick air, or water, from a nonexistent island with nonexistent trees. And four is the photo album we gave you.

Fox: Photo album?

Paul: Yes, that was the package we gave to Ben to give to you at the condo apartment. Didn't you look at it?

Fox: Uh, no. I've been so busy tracking down my stuff and your spheres, you know?

Scott: So how come we made it back to this dimension if we really did cross over to the other one?

Paul: I think the key is the two storms we passed through. I think they may have also been ... a gateway, if you will, or a door. Remember when we crashed we were in the first storm, the gateway in. Remember when we were ready to leave the island, I asked you if you wanted to delay our departure because of the weather? That was the second storm, the way out. We haven't encountered a storm this time.

Fox: You mean to say, if we had delayed our departure, we wouldn't have come back to this place, this time?

Paul: Possibly not. I can't be certain. We may have landed in Hawaii, but not in this time, or we may not have landed in Hawaii at all. We could have landed some place completely different.

Scott: Oh man!

Fox: That's an understatement!

Paul: See, you must remember that I've seen your world from space just as your satellites do. Every inch of this planet has been mapped and studied. Because of your technology, no piece of land can remain undiscovered. It's impossible. Yet we seemingly came out of nowhere and it took us four and a half days to get back. Do you remember that nice couple that picked us up?

Scott: Mr. and Mrs. Kincaid.

Paul: Yes. They showed us the maps. There are no islands out here where we came from. Yet we did come from here.

George: (in thought) Yes, ... that would also explain why there weren't any boats or planes.

Scott: But we did see planes! They were real high, but we saw 'em!

Fox: Or we thought we saw them. What about that, Paul?

Paul: I don't know what to tell you. Maybe this phenomenon only occurs closer to the ground. Maybe the different frames or dimensions overlap. There are hundreds, maybe an infinite number of possible explanations.

Fox: Well I'll tell you what I think! Let's get the hell outta here! I don't like it; not one bit and I don't wanna stay!

Scott: Me either! Let's get back before we disappear again, forever!

Paul: I'm sorry that I've frightened you. I didn't mean to.

Fox: We know, let's just go, okay?

Paul: Okay.

Paul started the boat's engines again and headed back to the Hawaiian chain. Scott moved up close to his dad and Paul put a reassuring arm around his son's shoulders. He could feel Scott's unease. George stood close by on the other side. Paul could see that they were both a little shaken. Their peace of mind had been disturbed and he tried to calm them.

Paul: Listen, not all storms are gates to another dimension you know.

Fox: (quietly) We know.

Paul: But?

Fox: But ...

Scott: ... but if your thinking what I'm thinking; you're gonna wonder if you're gonna disappear like in the Bermuda Triangle every time you travel.

Paul: I've heard about that. But not every boat or plane that passes through the Bermuda Triangle disappears, Scott.

Scott: But a lot of them do disappear and no one's been able to explain how or why they've vanished. And no evidence was found in some of the cases.

Fox: Scott's right, Paul.

Paul looked at George sympathetically.

Paul: I'm sorry. If I had known how much this would upset the both of you...

Fox: (pats Paul on the back) It's okay. It's a little unnerving, but I think I'll live. Right Scott?

Scott: Right.

Fox: Maybe this was like a Bermuda Triangle, but out here in Hawaii.

Paul: Maybe.

Fox: The point is we've made it back. We're here and that's that. It may never happen again. Personally, I hope it never does. I like being where I am, this place, this time; but I'm not gonna dwell on it. I'm just gonna live for today.

That seemed to brighten Scott's spirits as well, though Paul knew his son and George were putting on a facade, however they were trying to disguise it. Another thought came to George.

Fox: Hey Paul?

Paul: Yes?

Fox: Listen, we can't go back to Oahu. No doubt by now, the guards have discovered that you two are missing. Since our island isn't a safe refuge anymore ...

Scott: Yeah, what do we do now?

Paul: I was hoping you'd have a suggestion. If you have one, let me know and I'll adjust the course. Right now, this boat's headed for Oahu.

Fox: How about Maui? You could hide there.

Paul: Scott?

Scott: Hey, no problem here.

Fox: Okay, let's go for Maui.

George brought out the nautical map and Paul changed the boat's heading. George suggested some possible landing sights away from the crowded tourist areas.

As the boat pulled in as close to shore as it could, Paul cut the engine and they went down to the rear deck.

Fox: Well, this is it, Maui.

Paul: Thanks George ... for everything.

Scott: Yeah, thanks Mr. Fox.

Fox: (to Scott) I'm not a dirty bastard then.

Scott: (a bit embarrassed) No. I'm sorry I even said that. You're okay.

Paul: He means once we get to know you, that is.

Fox: I think you're okay too.

There was silence as the three of them looked at each other.

Fox: So what will you do now, Paul?

Paul: I don't really know. I'll have to take any odd job until I can save enough money to buy another camera.

Fox: No you won't. I've got your camera bag right here with me on the boat.

Paul: Well that solves one problem.

Fox: Listen Paul, take my advice, change your identity and find another occupation until this case is closed. Being a photographer makes you stick out too much in the public light and you're name is too well known. You've got to keep a very low profile, especially right now until the 'heat' dies down.

Paul: That's easy for you to say, but just what do you suggest I change my occupation to, and what name should I use if not Paul Forrester?

Fox: (a little loudly) I don't know! Use the name Frost or Forest or something like that. You can still keep your first name. As for a job, why not try out as a groundskeeper for some rich dude. Or go work in a florist shop. Something like that should keep you out of trouble and out of sight. That's just what you need.

Paul: You think I can change my identity?

Fox:: Sure. It's done all the time.

Paul: How do I do it?

George started to tell Paul how to go about creating a new identity.

Scott: And I saw this book in a book store Dad, the last time I was in one, and it tells you all you need to know and do. I think it was called "How To Create A New Identity". I'll help you, Dad. We can do it. Paul: Thanks for the suggestion. I'll look into it.

Suddenly George gave Paul a quick, but firm hug and stood at arm's length, his hands still on Paul's arms.

Fox: You know, I think I'm gonna miss you. You take care of yourself, y'hear?

Paul: (smiling) I will.

George then gave Scott an equally quick hug and let go.

Fox: You take care of yourself too. And take care of your dad. Don't want anything to happen to him. He's a very special ... man.

Scott: I will.

Paul: Thank you, George.

Paul and Scott jumped off the boat, into the waist-high water. George handed Paul his camera bag and duffle and Scott, his. They were ready to go on shore, but George stopped them.

Fox: Wait. I've got some stuff for both of you.

George handed down two backpacks, completely packed with bedroll and blanket and a large cardboard box.

Paul: What is all this?

Fox: I bought it for you and Scott. I thought you could use it on the island, but you can use it now too.

Paul started to check the box. Inside were a pot and skillet, two plastic plates, eating utensils, a hunting knife, toiletries, and enough packaged food for at least a couple of weeks.

Paul: Thank you, George. You shouldn't have.

Fox: Hey, you can use it. Go on and take it.

Paul: Thanks.

Fox: And here's one more thing. (reaches in his pants pocket) Here.

Paul: Scott, take this and put it up on the beach. (hands him the box, then reaches for a slip of paper) What's this?

Fox: That's my post office box address in D.C. Write me when you get settled. And let me have the name you're using and your address when you do. We can make arrangements for calling me later. Good-bye Paul and good luck to both of you.

Paul: Bye George.

Fox: Bye Scott.

Scott: Bye Mr. Fox.

George went back up to the bridge, started up the engines and put the yacht in reverse. Paul and Scott watched as he backed carefully away from the shore, turned the boat and headed for deep water. They all waved to each other, a final farewell wave and the boat was away.

Paul: C'mon, let's get squared away for tonight. We've got a new life ahead of us starting tomorrow morning.

Scott: Yeah. Thank God.

Paul and Scott went up on shore and bedded down for the evening under the stars, free, thanks to George Fox. Paul lay down next to his son in his bedroll, looked up at those shining dots of light and smiled.

Paul: (very quietly) Goodnight Scott.

Scott: (also smiling as he sees his father's face reflecting the joy at being free) Yeah, ... goodnight Dad.

While Scott drifted off into sleep, Paul felt his shoulder begin to ache again. Quietly, so as not to disturb his son, he activated the tiny orb and repaired the damage the bullet had done to his shoulder muscles. With the healing complete, the shoulder was restored to its original integrity and the pain disappeared. Paul smiled, put away the sphere, closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep too.

########################################

It was very early in the morning when Paul woke up. It was still dark out and the stars were still shining. Paul lay there on his blanket, looking up at the stars. They always brought him peace of mind, but right now, they did not. He was feeling very uneasy. He'd been awakened by a disturbing dream.

Paul looked over at his son who was still sleeping soundly. As the first rays of light began to brighten the morning sky, Scott awakened, opened his eyes and sleepily greeted his father with his usual vernacular. Paul smiled briefly at his son and said, "Good morning, Scott." He sat up, crossed his legs and folding his arms, stared down at the ground. Scott noticed.

Scott: What is it Dad? Something wrong?

Paul: Hmm? Oh ... no.

Scott: Uh uh, I ain't buyin' it Dad. I know you too well. Something's bothering you. What is it?

Paul: (takes a deep breath) I just had a strange dream is all. Can't seem to get it off my mind.

Scott: Well, was it bad ... or good?

Paul: Both actually. Some of it was very bad, but it ended good.

Scott: Wanna tell me?

Paul: Not really.

Scott: Aw, c'mon. Please? No secrets.

Paul: Very well.

Paul started.

Paul: Well, it started that we were in jail, here on Hawaii; and the sheriff had me restrained like some kind of major criminal and you were there in jail with me. (sadly) You were handcuffed. The sheriff did a computer check and Fox showed up to take us back to the mainland. But the helicopter got hit by lightning and ...

Scott: ... and the pilot got lost ...

Paul: Yes, and the engine stopped ...

Scott: ... and we crashed on some island in the middle of nowhere.

Paul looked at Scott strangely.

Paul: Did you have this dream too?

Scott: I think so.

Paul: Tell me what you remember?

Scott: (slowly) Fox treated us like animals. He chained us to a tree ... and when I tried to run away ... he shot you. Dad, it was all my fault ... you almost died.

Paul: And then he ... whipped me when he accused you of trying to escape again?

Scott: How do you know that, Dad? Have you been doing something weird with my mind?

Paul: No. (his eyebrows raising) You know I wouldn't do that, ... but ... that's what I dreamed too.

Scott: What else happened in your dream?

Paul: Fox released us and we built a house together.

Scott: And became friends?

Paul: (nodding) But then we thought he betrayed us ...

Scott: ... but he hadn't. He and Ben got us out of another jail at some military hospital.

Paul: Exactly. ... And who are Roger and Marilyn Kincaid? In my dream they picked us up in their boat and gave us a lift back to port, somewhere here.

Scott: (shaking his head and running his fingers through his hair) I don't know! This is too weird! How can we both have the same dream? It's got to be a fluke, a coincidence.

Paul: The chances of that happening are astronomically small.

Scott: Then how?

Paul: I don't know. I **do **know that there are things ... more unusual things that go on in the universe, Scott, than we can ever begin to understand. Even on my world we are continuing to learn all the time.

Scott: Dad?

Paul: Yes?

Scott: Do you think this dream's a premonition? A look ahead at what's to come?

Paul: Again, I don't know. It could be possible.

Scott: Well I certainly hope not! I don't like the idea of being handcuffed for months and chained to a tree!

Paul: What about me? I was shot ... and then beaten! Pain is not something I enjoy. I more than you, hope this is nota premonition. I don't think I'd like it. Correction, I know I wouldn't like it!

Scott: If it does happen again, do you think we'll still remember the dream?

Paul: Again, I don't know the answer to your question. My experience with your dreams, is that they usually are not remembered for very long.

Father and son sat in silence for a moment reflecting on their shared vision. The mood of gloom hung in the air. Paul quickly decided to change the melancholy atmosphere.

Paul: I think that's enough talk about this dream of ours. All we can do is put this experience behind us and pray that it was just what it was, a dream and nothing more. I don't think one half-bad, half-good dream should spoil what looks to be a beautiful day. Agreed?

Scott: (still sullen) Agreed. Listen Dad, maybe we shouldn't go into town today. ... I've got a bad feeling, like it's a warning or something.

Besides, we don't need any groceries.

Paul: Scott, forget the dream. That's all it was, okay? I don't want to see you worrying all day about it. Alright? (looks and sees the still nervous appearance on Scott's face) Listen, if it'll make you feel better, we won't stay in any one place too long. We'll just go in and get right out, okay?

Scott: Alright, But it sure is spooky.

Paul: Yes, I know. Now ...

Paul stood up, collected their camping gear and bags and hid them carefully in some brush, out of sight and turned to face Scott.

Paul: ... now I think I'd like some breakfast. How about you? You hungry?

Scott: You bet! Pancakes 'n syrup?

Paul: Anything you want. We've got plenty of money left from what Liz sent us. She sent enough for first class and we waited to get the tourist rate so we can have whatever we want to eat.

Scott: Okay, let's hurry up, I'm starving.

Paul: (as he dons his camera bag over his shoulder and they start walking into town) Or how about some bacon and eggs? ... with ...

Paul and Scott: (together) Home fries!

Paul: Right! (quieter) And after we finish I'll call that number Liz gave me and we'll make arrangements to meet with her. Sound good?

Scott: Sounds great.

Paul smiled and put his arm around Scott's shoulders and squeezed his son tight. After a hike up from the beach they quickened their pace and walked down the road into the quiet little south island town for that breakfast.

Scott: Dad?

Paul: Yes?

Scott: _Is_ it possible to cross into another dimension? ...

THE END, WELL ALMOST


End file.
